Last Meal

It's after 7 on a Tuesday; I'm still at the office; and I just got a text asking "what is your all time fave thing to eat? Last meal kind of fave."

I msg'd back that it was such a good question, I'd have to think about it. And I am thinking about it right now. I'll probably think about it all night.

The last meal I've had today is a bag of Lay's Cajun Herb & Spice chips. Partly because I have company staying at my house this week, I have kidded myself that I would make it home for lunch and dinner the last couple days, when, in fact, I haven't made it home for either, and they have had to fend for themselves -- only part of what's making me the world's worst hostess (thanks to a weekend brunch, at least there's a well-stocked fridge so no one will starve to death). Instead of making it home (or at least meeting the guests out for a decent meal), I've plowed through until starvation strikes, at which point I've walked to the boyz-in-the-hood grocery down the street for the aforementioned Cajun chips (they also stock "Family Condom" -- you can almost make out the signage in this photo -- porn; and a mystifying array of handbags -- that picture was taken as quickly and unobtrusively as possible). They are very pleasant and gracious there, though my fellow shoppers often eye me suspiciously -- as if cash-into-food transactions are not the type of business that is meant to be conducted there, and I am somehow intruding.

Even though these chips are very, very addictive -- they are most definitely not my favorite thing to eat -- and now I am hoping (more than usual) I do not get hit by a bus, because I would HATE for them to be my Last Meal.

For now, I cannot believe that I can't actually name my favorite food (of course funnelcakes would be somewhere on a Top 20 List, and so would meat on a stick -- but no, they're not actually my favorite foods).

If I knew my last meal was going to be my Last Meal (say, like Diddy in Monster's Ball), I just wouldn't eat anything, because my inner Rainman and claustrophobia would replace my hunger with panic and I can't eat during a panic attack, or even if I suspect I might have a panic attack. (My toothpicks!) Some people eat when they're stressed or nervous or upset -- but those are times when I starve -- I only really eat when I'm content and calm and happy (so according to my wardrobe, I am having a summer of bliss... and in order for more of my clothes to fit, I'm going to need someone to break my heart).

It really is a great question though, and I am going to have to think about the answer.