Thursday, December 10, 2009

First Lunch, Then The World

I have a dilemma. I am at work and I’m hungry and I don’t know what to do.

Since I’m a temp, I work in a conference room at a big table with 2 other people. It’s really quiet in here. I brought Cup of Noodles from home for lunch, but I don’t want to be slurping it in front of everyone. And there is no way to eat Cup of Noodles quietly. It’s just not a quiet food. And I certainly don’t want to be that co-worker. You know, the one who always eats lunch at their desk and then asks to borrow your pen and gives it back all smelling like tuna fish and you’re like, you didn’t even have tuna today, why does this smell like that, but you can’t say anything because far be it for you to deny someone their lunch? Anyway, by slurping Cup of Noodles today not only will I drive my co-workers crazy but no one will ever let me borrow a pen again.

That leads us to option 2: get lunch at the restaurant downstairs. Why not, you ask? Well, because I go there almost every day. And I just know that as soon as I walk in the door they’re all “Oh great, here comes ‘Half Chicken Salad Sandwich Girl who Sneaks in Her Own Water Because She’s Too Cheap to Buy a Drink.’” And then they say “Hey, let’s mess with her again and not call her number when her sandwich comes up. Last time she waited almost 4 minutes staring at the sandwich on the counter but not knowing what to do with it. That was fun.” So I obviously can’t go back in there ever again.

So I called Mike and I explained my situation. He said “You know, there are starving children in Africa.” And I said “Yeah, but don’t you think it would be kind of rude for me to ask them what I should do? I mean, they’re hungry and all.” He sighed and said “Why don’t you go downstairs and order something besides Chicken Salad? Like, get a Cheese Sandwich to throw them off.” But what if they don’t pay attention and make chicken salad anyway and then I have to actually talk to them and make a scene about making a cheese sandwich. Isn’t that exactly what they want? Mike then mumbled something that I didn’t quite hear - something about how much he loves me or about needing therapy, I’m not sure. Then he said he had to go and hung up.

What am I to do? Maybe I’ll wait it out. See if I can just make it until dinner.

P.S. I just checked the package; apparently, it’s “Cup Noodles” not “Cup of Noodles.” I think someone should tell Nissin to add an “of” to be more correct in the English language. I texted Mike to let him know. He thinks I’m being culturally insensitive.

P.P.S. Found out Cup Noodles are packaged in the USA. Now who’s being culturally insensitive?

Update: I decided to eat the Cup Noodles. Mainly because I like saying that now and I wanted to tell other people that it’s actually Cup Noodles not Cup of Noodles. No one seemed very impressed. In fact, they all acted like it was no big deal. Plus, they refused to sign my petition to change it to Cup O’Noodles, even though I clearly explained that it would be revolutionary and break down boarders everywhere. At least in Ireland and Japan. And I'm sure that if I'm able to change the name, they’ll make me an honorary princess or something. Because that’s what princesses are supposed to do. And, as a princess, I bet everyone would lend me a pen. Win-win.

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