Food Issues.

I work with some people who have some major food issues. At a previous job, I worked with a woman who went into angry hysterics because we made microwave popcorn, which we couldn't understand, till later our boss alluded to "food issues". After I saw the woman putting five tiny tupperware containers each the size of a softball, and each filled with what appeared to be lettuce or spinach leaves, which she proceeded to eat for lunch every day during the workweek, it started to make sense. At my last job, I worked with a woman who was tall, thin, and who also had food issues. She would heat up a little tiny container of stinky casserole and eat outside most days. She liked to preach to others about how if we rode our bikes more, we could eat more ice cream. She also went crazy one night and stole someone's ice cream right out of the freezer, which was labeled with the owner's name, and ate it all. What a freak... maybe if she ate a normal-sized lunch, she wouldn't have whacked out and gorged herself on pilfered ice cream!

Now I work with more than one person with "food issues". And you know, I hate to gender stereotype, but they're always women. The other day when we had bagels with all the fixings, one of our Ladies with Food Issues stood there eating a slice of cucumber. And she's pregnant. If you can't eat a bagel when you're pregnant, then when? Today there was a macaroon in the office. Yes, a macaroon. Instead of someone eating a whole cookie, or even half a cookie, I watched the one macaroon get cut "in half" about seventeen times throughout the afternoon. By the end of the day, there was this paper wrapper with a tiny sliver of macaroon attached, with a butter knife sticking to it. It's kind of like when someone drinks almost all the milk and leaves the container in the refrigerator for someone else to deal with, only it's the Office Version, which inevitably involves thin women with Food Issues cutting pastries, cookies, cupcakes and the like into smaller and smaller pieces, and leaving the crumbs, mess, oil and knives for someone else to deal with. If I see one more BROKEN COOKIE, ripped bagel, gutted cinnamon roll, or dissected croissant, I think I am seriously going to SCREAM.