I went to Albertson’s yesterday—my bi-weekly ritual.
Fiji Water
Grapefruit Juice
Canned Spinach
Chef Boyardee
Lean Cuisine (only if on sale)
Tea
I’m very low maintenance when it comes to food. If it’s in the house, I’ll eat it. So I don’t buy all the crap I know I’d eat if it were around: Twinkies, Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream, Oreos, Mint Milanos, Pringles.
While browsing the aisles, some scruffy older man had setup a table with samples of peanut butter pretzels. Free food? I’m all over it. I picked up a sample cup and was about to walk away when the guy grabbed my wrist and hollered, “How old are you?”
I was shocked and confused. I just stared at him.
“How old are you!” He repeated.
I was dumb-founded, wondering why he was asking for my age. Still, I stood there. I didn’t say anything. I was paralyzed.
“I need to know how old you are before you can take a sample. We don’t give away samples to kids who aren’t going to buy our pretzels!”
“I’m 30. I’m 30 years old.” I finally managed to stutter it out.
Then he stared at me, dumb-founded. He eventually released my wrist and let me go. A big black woman came by his table for a sample. “That girl is 30. Can you believe it?” The black woman smiled at me.
I was still pushing my cart away when I heard the man say to another, “See that girl? She’s 30. I thought she was a kid. I wasn’t going to give her a sample. We need to ask her what she’s eating so we can all look that young.”
Uhhh, no. Cholesterol levels would skyrocket if most people had my eating habits.
One of the reasons I hate traveling is because I can’t control what I eat. In Minneapolis, we were in all-day meetings with all of our meals brought in. As soon as I walked in, I’d help myself to a frosted donut and orange juice. Everyone else tried to be good, eating fruit and drinking coffee. There are only certain types of fruit that I love (mangos, nectarines, cherries, asian pears). Otherwise, I do not eat fruit.
Two hours later, I would be starving. Who knows how many calories I consumed when I ate the dense, frosted donut, but I couldn’t help myself. Trays of breakfast pastries would still be sitting there in the conference room. I scarfed down a chocolate chip muffin.
As soon as the boxed lunches arrived, I killed mine: club sandwich, bag of chips, and M&M cookie. I threw away the carrots. Two hours later, I grabbed one of the left-over boxed lunches. A second lunch in the tummy: ham sandwich, bag of chips, and chocolate chip cookie. At 4pm, the hunger pangs kicked in. I noticed one of my peers had tossed his M&M cookie out of his boxed lunch. I nudged him, “Hey Jeffy, are you gonna eat that cookie?” He cackled and handed it over.
6pm dinner. 3 slices of pepperoni pizza. Disgusting, huh? Do not take on my eating habits. It’s a good thing I’m active and I run. Otherwise, I know I’d be on my deathbed.
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