I happened to enjoy a lovely dinner a few nights ago with friends. So good in fact that when I was offered a container to take some of the food home with me, I agreed most heartily.
Fast forward to the next morning, when I am retrieving my container from the fridge so I can enjoy my tortellini and meatballs over breakfast at work. With black tea and lots of sugar?
|A lip-smackingly-brilliant idea|
A dear and near one hovering by noticed my actions.
“What is that”, they queried.
“Food”, I responded cheerily.
“Leftovers from someone’s dinner?”
“Yyyyeesss….?” I affirmed tentatively.
A sneer was the response I got. I realized that I was being told it was undignified to eat leftovers that aren’t yours. Even if you want to. Well, hot damn. The foolish notions humans imposed on themselves.
I was so curious about this new rule (in my book at least), that I asked another near and dear one what they thought. She shall want to remain anonymous so let us call her Lolita.
Her response was one of shock “You can’t eat LEFTOVERS,” she gasped.
“Well, why not?” I pushed. “I don’t get it, I really don’t!”
“Because it’s just not DONE” she responded hotly. “You’ve got to have some dignity!”
“Dignity, hell!” I laughed. “You tellin’ me that if I open up this dish of tortellini and meatballs, stewed up by the genuine article-a true Italian-you’re not going to want a piece of it?”
“No!”, she declared firmly. “They’re not fresh. They’re left overs. And they’re not even yours!”
“Oho,” I said. “Aha. So what did you want me to do, leave it for the dog?”
“Yes!” Lolita agreed. “It’s for the dog”.
I mused over this for some time. At work, I opened the container and the aroma of tortellini and meatballs could have disrupted Jesus’ rest.
So the price of eating this food was the destruction of the dignification of my non-existent alter ego.