I simply had to share with you a strange encounter of the “food police” kind I had today…
I was sitting at Flinders St station, snacking on a piece of cheese. I’d had an early lunch, and dinner was hours away, and it was exactly what I felt like. It was Jarlsberg, thinly sliced, and totally delicious. I was eating it slowly, savouring each bite.
A woman came and sat next to me, and said quietly “Cheese has an awful lot of fat in it.”
I said.. “Excuse me?!”
She repeated herself.. “Cheese has an awful lot of fat in it.”
I said (rather sarcastically, I admit) “Yeah, I know! Thanks! Would you like some?”
She SHUDDERS. I am not kidding. A visible shudder, and a vigorous shaking of the head accompanies “OH, no, I don’t eat cheese. That’s why I’m not fat.”
At this point I give her what’s known amongst my associates as the “Stare O Death”. It can stop a screaming toddler in their tracks, and make even the most arrogant teenager’s blood turn to ice in their veins. It did make her pause. But not stop.
She says.. “I’m just concerned….”
I have to admit, dear readers, that it was the end of a very long and tiring day, and I was not in the mood for any hassling, so I let her have both barrels.
“Concerned? For my Health?” say I… She nods, and is about to launch into the rest of her speech, when I hold up my hand.
“Wait..” I say, “Are you a doctor? No, actually, that’s irrelevant. Are you MY doctor? I’m pretty sure I’d remember if you were. To be honest, if you’re in the habit of giving unsolicited, unqualified nutritional advice to complete strangers, it’s YOUR health I’d be concerned about.”
And then I ate my cheese in stony silence, as she sat there gaping like a fish. After a few seconds, she got up and moved away from me and my evil cheese eating ways, no doubt to go hassle some other poor sod down the other end of the platform.
some people… y’know? Sheesh.