Foot in the Mouth
I was on an airplane to Memphis this morning when an older gentleman sporting an eye patch got on after me. It reminded me of a time not too long ago…
The year was 2006, and I was a senior in college. Being terrified/unable to provide myself with adequate nutrition daily, I was well on my way to setting the Mizzou record with 8 full semesters of the 17-squares-a-week meal plan.
Something about preferring my parents pay for my unfettered access to unlimited food with no preparation, tipping, or clean up made me feel like the needle pointed closer to “borderline genius” rather than “complete loser.”
Anway, I ate at a variety of dining halls, because variety is the spice of life. Especially if you let a large public university cook all your meals for you as an 18-to-22-year old “man.” On Halloween I found myself in a dining hall across campus for the first time. I entered and saw that there were Halloween decorations up everywhere. It was all very festive. Really got me into the Halloween spirit.
I approached the grill and a student-employee with the name tag “Chris” was manning the spatula. Being very friendly I saw that Chris was wearing an eye patch and was joking around with his coworkers. I ordered a patty melt from him and, after a few moments, awkwardly tried to join their merriment with: “Not going with the hook today Chris? You gotta go all out if you’re going pirate, man.”
The laughter abruptly stopped. The coworkers looked nothing short of aghast. The coworkers, I also noticed, were not wearing costumes. Unless they were all going as Dining Hall Employees for Halloween.
Silently, Chris put my half-cooked patty melt on a plate and gave it to me. I took it, high-tailed it out of there, and (if memory serves) ate the whole thing out of some kind of shame-fueled penance.
Some time around Christmas I saw Chris at a bar, still rocking the same eye patch. And though the Halloween season had past, I still felt like a total monster.
