The Battle: Food Noises


Today I went to my weekly Weight Watchers meeting and weighed in. The group of people who attend this particular meeting are pretty amazing. It is not for the weak at heart. It kind of reminds me of the preamble to the Declaration of Independence in which it says, “We hold these truths to be self evident…” I am not sure how to describe it without using quotes, and that would be an invasion of their privacy, not covered by HIPAA, but just conventional wisdom. I will condense it to this: they inspire me. Since Weight Watchers is now interactive, and not just a talking head at meetings, it is more fun to go with a bunch of people who could give their own Ted Talks. They address the issues of over-eating and personal reformation as if we are planning the strategy of the people on that airliner that crashed in the field on 9/11. They intend to take the numbers on the scale down, and they mean business.

Like any inspirational group, there is one woman who irritates me no end. It is not what she says that raises my hackles; it is the noises she makes.

First of all, she comes to the group, obviously skips breakfast to weigh in, and then she proceeds to eat her breakfast in front of us. I could live with and yes, even overlook such illogical behavior. She does it every week; it stands to reason that it does not change her weight. She is going to eat the food anyway, just fifteen minutes later. Won’t it show up on next week’s weigh-in? She lives in her own little food world. We all have food issues; it is why we are there in the first place. People without food issues do not attend Weight Watchers.

Second, she puts her breakfast in a jar. It looks like a punishing mixture of pale yogurt and uncooked oats. Showing my magnanimity, I do not barf or comment as I walk past it. I am not the judge and jury of whatever stupid inane decisions other people make about what they put in their mouths. This fat woman will not throw stones in that regard. I have made enough of my own stupid inane food decisions.

Third, and this is what she should be put in prison for and NEVER RELEASED: she eats it with a metal spoon, and with every bite she clinks the side of the glass jar.

I am surprised that my skin does not just crawl entirely off of my body and cry screaming beneath my chair, huddled in a pile on the industrial carpet.

If that were not enough, she brings some sort of obviously home made and therefore, more virtuous drink in a large reusable plastic glass with a lid, and a mini lid for a spout, and she makes slurping noises consuming the nectar of honey vermin and recycled owl pellets.

I will not make the mistake of sitting within earshot of her again.

I have lost 10.2 pounds. Better yet, I have two five pound stickers in my Weight Watcher book. Yo Eowyn!



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