The Case of the Catered Lunch

Each month I go to a luncheon meeting of a professional association I belong to, and it's great.  Except the food, naturally.  You knew I was going to complain about that, right? :)  I'm sure you're familiar with the fare: a basket of bread, a tiny plate with tiny little pats of butter, a salad, a slice of cheesecake, and a dozen pieces of silverware.

Cue the chit-chat about how to remember which bread plate is yours!

I was starving, so I scarfed down that salad (no dressing thankyouverymuch) like a baseball team of teenage boys at a pizza joint.  I stopped just short of licking my plate.  But this is where my catered-lunch experience ceases to be like so many others were in that room (which would be boarding the afternoon-coma train with a stop at TransFatVille).  Instead of eating this:

Some kind of chicken wrapped around some cheese mixture, with a side of mashed potatoes

and a lonely little tomato drenched in oil. (No one ate the tomato.)

I ate this:

That's right.  TWO SALADS.  Get this - it's crazy - when the waiter comes along with the Heart Attack Special, I just say, "May I please have another dinner salad?"  He then looks at me with a look of confusion and asks, "you just want...another salad?  Like....a salad?"  Its as if everything he has ever known and believed to be true is crumbling before his eyes. And I smile and say,

"yes, that would make me the happiest person in the world." 

Sometimes I bat my eyelashes if I feel it is necessary to express just how very important this request is to me.

And then, he brings me another salad.  I eat it. We're done.

I attended a meeting where a catered lunch was served but I was able to avoid eating it.  And then when I got back to my office, I ate my real lunch.  Which was another salad, btw.

The next time you think you're stuck eating catered food, think again.  You can always pack a snack to eat on the sly or just ask for more of the rabbit food.  Hey, give 'em something to talk about back in the kitchen!

Good day!