Skip to content

Spoon

Daniel Velez
Daniel Velez
2 min read

Eating is an inconvenient biological necessity. We need to shove 2,000 calories down our throats to avoid atrophy. If we don't, our stomachs remind us with a grumble. If we move past the grumbling, our stomachs consume themselves, or consume us, in its last-ditch effort for sustenance. The stomach doesn't care for our plans, papers, or projects. We either feed the beast or the beast feeds on us.

To avoid this sick, twisted game, we must eat three times a day. We are awake for only 16 hours and we have to set aside three separate and equidistant times for nourishment - the morning, afternoon, and evening. My dog eats twice a day; a schedule I envy. But, I'm more envious of a snake, who can swallow a whole goat and not eat again for months.

Lunch is the most tedious of the bunch - because it occurs while I'm at work. I meal prep on Saturday mornings so I 1) don't have to wait 30 minutes in line at Chick-fil-A and 2) don't spend hundreds of dollars a month on Chick-fil-A. Every day I eat the same lunch: rice, beans, chicken, and one whole bell pepper with a side of hot sauce. Eating the same thing every day is my girlfriend's nightmare but, for me, it's a small rebellion against the tyranny of my gut.

I find comfort in eating the same thing every day. It provides some consistency to my life. I know the sun will rise and that I'll eat chicken for lunch. There is one aspect of my lunch that varies and that is if I pack a spoon.

I can't explain to you why I consistently forget to pack a spoon. I never forget the mason jar with the bell peppers. I never forget the glass rectangular Tupperware with my rice, beans, and chicken. Whether I bring a spoon is up to chance. It's as if a game of craps plays in my mind every morning; if the dice lands on an even, I bring the spoon. Odd means no spoon.

Like clockwork, at noon I walk over to the breakroom and heat up my food. I do this with no enthusiasm. My indifference is the complete opposite of my dog's approach to food, which is, "Can you believe this is happening? OMG! OMG! Nomnomnomnomnomnomnom."

I take my hot Tupperware to my office, close the door, and sit down. I look for my spoon. If it's an odd day, I'll cuss under my breath and say to myself, "WHY YOU FORGET SPOON!" Then I'll go on what I've come to call the walk of shame. This is when I walk to the Chick-fil-A’s condiment section and grab a single-use plastic spoon wrapped in single-use plastic shrink wrap.

I know what you’re thinking, I talk so much shit about single-use plastic but I secretly use it when it’s convenient. That is correct.

I've tried different methods to remember to bring my spoon. I'd keep a spoon in my office and clean it every day. Then somebody stole the soap in the break room. I've considered bringing five spoons to work on Monday and cleaning them all at home on Friday. But then I wouldn't have any spoons in my house. I've tried remembering, but this method consistently fails me. What if I ate at the student dining hall? Too much money. Too many students.

My spoon problem reminds me of people who genuinely want to bring their reusable bags to the grocery store but forget them in the car.

I haven’t tried asking the dining hall to borrow a reusable spoon. Maybe I should try that next?

Newsletter

Daniel Velez Twitter

Daniel is building the future of reuse. His last venture, Growly Delivers, delivered local beer in returnable high-tech growlers. What will he do next?

Comments


Related Posts

Members Public

Bury Me a G

Where do we go when we die? It’s a question that has plagued humanity forever. I’m not religious but, I’m pretty sure that anybody who disrespects the Oxford comma is going to hell. And for those who put pineapple on their pizza, heaven awaits you. Some argue

Members Public

Seinfeld

I work at the university which is another way of saying I'm poor but comfortable. When I saw that Jerry Seinfeld was playing in Phoenix, I bought the cheapest ticket I could find from Seat Geek. The seat was partially inside a wall. I'll try to explain. I arrived at

Members Public

iPod

The first song I ever stole on the internet was Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg. Imagine me, 11 years old, singing along to a song about alcohol I never drank and weed I never smoked, bopping my head to the beat and singing, "Sippin' on gin and juice!," while