Apart from my perilous journey into life I have discovered the joys of food to be the most satisfying. Well, among other things but I want to talk about food. Because I can cook like Bobby Flay. In fact, head to head I think I’d at least put up a fight…maybe.
Yet I digress. Food is a gift and whoa buddy it can be a problem for some. I mean me impaticularly. You see, butter is involved in most my dishes to a certain extent. It’s funny how you play with the Cherrios and smear all the chocolate from a chocolate cake on your face as a kid and then trash your body with such things later in life.
Maybe I need to just play with my food until I’m not hungry. The years are passing by real quick ladies and gentlemen. More and more I’m just like, ‘To hell with what I eat.” So as I grow my portion size keeps growing. I’ve graduated from diapers to boxers.
It doesn’t just seem like it but my boxer size keeps growing. My belt size and shirt size as well. The perfect balanced diet waved bubye long ago. And no I didn’t misspell bubye. That’s pronounced bubi. So don’t get it twisted. I’m a big son of a bitch. And as I get older I’m like, who cares. I like curvy women. I just got a few curves of my own. I just deal with it.
That is of course until I landed in the doctor’s office today with a stomach ache. Let’s just say there weren’t that many people there.
Amazing how it only took 45 minutes to get into a room. 😑 I was seething mad with a belly ache and I went up to the receptionist upon check out and made respectful conversation. I told the receptionist I could remember her since I was a child. She then reminded me she’d only been in this office for 5 years.
I quickly dodged embarrassment by trying to move on to the next subject. It was a moment brought on by stress but as well as a little voice in the back of my head saying, ‘damn what’s the hold up.’ She had been sitting there blabbing away.
When I walked away she shut the glass between us and I guess she wasn’t aware I could still hear her when she said, “What is this guy’s deal?”
It took every part of me to not say some snide comment. But hey, I’m over 35 and at this point I honestly don’t care what she thought. Gotta choose your battles. Like, I choose to devour ribeyes. I didn’t choose to fight with an 80 plus year old in the paltry-filled lobby of my doctors office.
But then again all those ribeyes kind of have given me high cholesterol over the years. Which in turn led me to the office above. Wherein I’d meet the gossip queen. There were other issues I had to address at the doctors office. But I’ll save that for later because that in itself is another laugh a minute.