Despite my mother’s best efforts, I have a very healthy body image and attitude toward food. My diet is not particularly healthy, but I don’t restrict, starve, or throw up, I just eat like an adolescent boy. I’m also not fat– never have been, never will be because: I don’t often overeat, I enjoy exercise and being active, everything is fine in moderation, and I don’t want to be fat and rarely do things I don’t want to do.
It’s this moderation philosophy that is really the reason for my success, and the reason I flatly refuse to eat or drink diet anything. It’s a waste of money, and rarely have I ever found diet something that actually tastes good. For as bland as my diet of boxed pasta and frozen pizza is– it’s certainly more appealing than some kind of low-carb, low-cal monstrosity that just tastes like chemicals and just makes you feel sad after eating it.
The world, I’ve come to realize, does not share my view, and my obvious femininity seems a burden when asking people in the service industry for what I actually want. This hasn’t happened as much lately, but for a while it seemed like everytime I went out for food or drink, someone wanted to give me diet or “lite”. I went out for beers with a bunch of guys once and there was deal on a bucket of domestics. We split the bucket with me getting Budweiser– naturally when the waitress came back, she served me Bud Light. I got into a fight with the girl working the Erbert and Gerbert drive-thru about my soda after I took a drink and discovered that it was Diet Coke rather than regular.
“This is diet,” I told her, “I ordered regular.”
“Sorry,” she dumped it out and began re-refilling the cup with diet.
“No!” I yelped, “I don’t want diet, I want the real stuff.”
“What? Like you want a bottle?”
“No, I want regular Coke, not diet.”
She just looked blank.
I tried again, “I want regular Coca-Cola, Coca-Cola Classic, not Diet Coke, regular Coke– that red one there, not the silver.”
Finally she understood and gave me what I wanted, but I’ve been apprehensive about going to drive-thrus since then.
Since I’ve been working downtown, I’ve been very remiss about bringing a lunch. I don’t really get terribly hungry mid-day, but it’s nice to go outside, and also nice to have a bit of a snack. At first, I went to Farmstead and got delightful $10 sandwiches made of artisanal cheeses and felt very good about my choices. Then one day I consumed both the Cheesemonger sandwich, and Macaroni and cheese that was so delightfully oily it kept slipping off the fork. Then I felt a bit sick. Now, I’ve been going to Dunkin Donuts and getting my large iced coffee and a bagel.
Yesterday, I examined the sign boasting of all of the varieties of cream cheese Dunkin Donuts has, most of them boasting of being reduced fat. I asked the friendly worker “Is it possible to get a strawberry cream cheese that’s not reduced fat?”
“Of course,” he told me, and then promptly gave me reduced fat which I didn’t notice until I was back at work across the street. It looked like Rose Balm, and tasted decidedly pink, so much so, that I threw most of it away.
Who wants to eat like this? I suppose my mother does, but she seems to take very little joy in her food and sometimes brags about how she never gets hungry or “needs” to eat. Of course, she’s a Republican and cannot be trusted to make good decisions, but I can’t assume that all consumers of diet food are Republican…
What I’m left with now, are the questions:
Did the man at Dunkin Donuts grab the wrong cream cheese by mistake?
Does Dunkin Donuts not, in fact, offer the flavored cream cheeses in any variety other than reduced fat?
Did the man at Dunkin Donuts misunderstand my question as others have in the past?
Does the man at Dunkin Donuts hate me and all others that come through the door, and want to exact some kind of small revenge?
Am I actually fat and have never realized it, but everyone else has been trying to tell me for years?