Free food

I'm a sucker for free food. You announce that there will be a spread somewhere, and you've got my attention. When I arrive at an event with refreshments, I immediately begin some serious investigating -- how soon is too soon to head to the free food? How interested do I have to act in what's going on before I stuff my face? Have other people helped themselves yet? And if you make me wait through a presentation while the food languishes in the back of the room, spread out and untouched, you can usually find me pretending to be interested in what the speaker is saying while checking my watch, licking my lips, and shooting longing glances at the cookies every so often. What I wouldn't do for free food.

A store close to work recently advertised a small holiday celebration (all day!), complete with refreshments. I internally cheered since I had brought a sad little soup lunch that day, and geared up for a midday visit to the little place. I told coworkers that I still had a bit of Christmas shopping to do, so why not pop in and see what they had? When I swung through the door, hungry for munchies and sweets, I found...nothing. No food. No other customers. Only the blank faces of the clerks. I circled around the place a couple of times, in and out of the aisles, trying to find the buffet table, and wondering if I had gotten the wrong day, or if this was some kind of mean trick. And then I saw it. Right there, up by the cash register. I see your plans, I thought. You aren't going to feed me unless I buy something. And this is where the story gets really sad. Because, I did. I bought something. It wasn't entirely for the food -- I came away with two mediocre Christmas presents for cousins that I rarely see (I got one a candle that supposedly smells like the beach (she misses California), another one of those chrome water bottles...not too bad of a gift, since he's a biker) -- but I would be lying if I said the food didn't play a little part in it. Chips and dip, breads with cheese, and cookies. But, even if my dignity is a little bit bruised, that's two more Christmas gifts I can cross off the list, not to mention a half a lunch. And, I suppose, it was better than walking up, stuffing my face, and leaving the store empty-handed. There's comfort in knowing that I haven't hit rock-bottom quite yet.