We have lunch meetings all the time, where we order in food and sit around the table in the conference room. My colleague, who I will call Jim, is a very, VERY large man. Morbidly obese. We actually have to bring in two arm-less chairs for him and push them together so he can sit down. He's a really nice guy, but he has some unusual habits. One is that he brings a WHOLE roasted chicken in for lunch every day. I think he also has some breathing issues, so when he eats, he does so with his mouth wide open. This drives another colleague, who I will call Jane, batty.
One day we were at one of these lunch meetings, and Jim was eating his chicken as ususal. He was covered in chicken grease and chewing loudly with his mouth open. I could see Jane growing more and more tense, until she finally stood up, slammed both hands down on the table and screamed "Close your mouth, you f*cking pig!" As soon as it came out of her mouth, she gasped, covered her mouth with her hands, started to cry and apologize profusely.
Jim took it all in stride, suprisingly, and said he has heard way, way worse stuff about himself than anything she had said. Bizarrely enough, Jim and Jane are very good friends now, and he even attended her wedding.
Aw, how sweet. All's well that end's well and all that.
I pity poor Jim, though, having to hear worse things about himself than f*cking pig. My usual funny (or at least I think it's funny, others may not) commentary escapes me on this one, since I just feel kinda.....sad.
:(
Now I have a craving for roasted chicken, JulioJJ.
2 comments:
Jim will be the same guy who say's it's all a glandular problem while he's cracking open the chicken bones and sucking out the marrow.
I feel sad for Jane! It's terrible when you are pushed beyond the brink!
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