This is the third entry of the “Dining at the End of the World” column series. It is recommended that you read the entries in order.
#6 – The Aftermath (Coming soon)
Day 8:
I would punch a baby seal in the face for a cheeseburger. A man can only live for so long on lukewarm, chemically tasting soups in tupperware containers. That issue aside, I can’t help but feel that my mood has deteriorated.
I think I’ve been unfair in my judgements of raiders. I’m talking of course about those rather rambunctious fellows that rape and pillage, featured heavily in post-apocalyptic movies and in the less cuddly countries of real-life Africa. I’ve been without food for only a week and I’ve more than once thought about fighting a child for their food. I don’t know why, I mean, I know that I could just drive to a store and buy food-stuffs from a grocery store. For some reason though, I instinctually feel that I will have only earned the food if I take it from someone weaker than me. Naturally this limits my options to the less athletic children. My morals are draining. God knows I had few enough to begin with. I need to readjust my food intake methods soon or this is going to end in warpaint, improvised tupperware-based weaponry and someone else’s tears.
Day 9:
Today my willpower reached its breaking point. In the latter part of a long day, I came to the horrid realization that my schedule did not allow for me to return home until late that evening and I had not prepared for a full day away from my kitchen. Also, now knowing the ghastly effect my hunger has on my attitude, I concluded that the rest of my personal and professional life was in danger because of this impulsive experiment. In fact, if I chose now to forsake my health in favor of my journalistic integrity, it’s really only a matter of time before I end up dead in a warzone. So powerful and consistent was this wave of petty rationalism that I decided for the sake of my future and the future of my descendants, I would stop off at Burger King.
I’m not a fan of Burger King. My choosing Burger King was an act of contrition. If I was going to go cheat, I damn well was going to be slightly disappointed by it. However, as I approached Burger KingMI was greeted with an impossible sight. At 4 p.m. with an empty McDonald’s drive-thru right across the street, the Burger King drive-thru had a line stretching into the street. Despite driving through that area three to four times a week, I had never seen this happen before. I was convinced that the world’s least impressive miracle had just occurred, and that I had a responsibility to stay strong. Also, I really didn’t want to wait in line or have to circle around to find another fast food location.
In retrospect, it makes me sad that while my commitment to the story is the most important thing to me right now, hunger trumped my commitment. Then, in the end, laziness trumped hunger. Thus, by the transitive property, laziness is my primary motivating factor in life. It’s embarrassing, but at the same time it’s nice to know that some things in life remain consistent.
Day 10:
Taste fatigue is beginning to set in. It had been from the start, but what was once just irritatingly bland has turned hostile and unpleasant. On the bright side, I seem to have lost five pounds. My mental faculties seem compromised however, so the weight loss very well might be brain related. I considered again breaking my diet, but the thought of doing all that work in coming up with a story and acting it out seemed too difficult. I barely have the energy to write, much less something as complex as directing a reenactment. Thus, I maintain my integrity yet another day. Virtue, it seems, isn’t always found along the high road, sometimes it’s on the saddest and lowest road.
Day 11:
I’ve come to realize that I’ve lost contact with a lot of my friends. Eating was pretty much the only reason I’d go out to see people. Our days seem to consist mainly of plans made around meals. Is that all my friends have become to me? eople to consume things with? I think I’m feeling a pang of guilt, but it’s hard to say, because recently all pangs have been redirected and set aside to be used as pangs of hunger.
Day 13:
It’s taken me a lot longer than I’m proud to admit, but I think I’ve finally decoded the secret to this diet. They key is and always has been preparation. I know, I know! I should have realized this ages ago. I have to prepare for expeditions. If I leave without preparing, I just won’t get to eat. It’s like how a pioneer of old might not have enough food to feed his family for the winter months because he spent the valuable summer months watching a “Game of Thrones” marathon when he’d meant to just watch that one episode.