(Assignment #3)
I hate eating.
At this point, I may have already lost you, but it’s true.
I hate deciding, every single day, multiple times per day, what to put in my awkward little human body to make it function. I hate the feeling of something hitting my teeth, then my tongue. I hate the humiliating up-and-down motion my jaw makes while chewing up whatever disgusting thing I just put in my mouth. I hate the squishy feeling of food particles mixed with saliva right before swallowing and then the mortifying shift of my throat when the food finally goes down.
I loathe the feeling of a stretched, massive belly, arriving all too gleefully, because I wasn’t paying enough attention while I was eating, and now I have to deal with it by not being able to breathe or fit in my pants.
Why, in this day and age, have we not evolved past eating?
And like…everyone’s just okay with this? This weird alien movement that we all have to do every day so we can keep talking and working and thinking?
We can put humans on a plane, a computer in a pocket, and one person’s organs inside someone else. But I have to be faced with my own mortality three (or more) times per day unless I place some mush into a hole in my face and grind it up with my flat little human bones until it’s small enough to survive the trip down my gullet?
How embarrassing.
Moreover, why are all of our events and, worse, feelings lined up around food?
It doesn’t matter whether it’s recreation, celebration, or consolation: there’s eating.
Everywhere.
Someone always has to have a fork in their hand.
First date? Dinner.
Birthday? Dinner.
Haven’t seen you in six months? Dinner.
For the love of god, does anyone want to go fucking bowling?
It’s not just the eating I hate, obviously. It’s also the choreography in a social setting.
“Wow, this place is great.”
“The menu has so many options!”
“Should we do apps?”
The dance with the server. The waiting for everyone’s food to arrive. The performance of enjoyment.
“Mmmmmm.”
“This is soooooo good.”
“I’m so happy I ordered this.”
Omg, shut up! We’re only barely a few years removed from being primordial ooze but we’ve somehow managed to invent brunch?!
To be clear – this doesn’t mean I hate food. Or that I’m constantly dieting. It’s just that, unlike many people who call themselves “foodies” and live to eat, I genuinely eat only to survive. I can appreciate when something tastes good. I like chocolate. I’m happy with my Caesar salads. I’m good to do my toast with coffee.
But if we finally evolve past this disgusting habit and find a way to ingest nutrition without the degrading experience of eating, I’ll be the first to line up to get the chip implanted in me.
In the meantime, where’s my goddamn Soylent?