The Slow Eater
Last night, I spent almost two hours in a dinner meeting because there was one Cardinal in my group that eats very, very slowly. The guy seriously chewed his food about forty times before swallowing. At one point, I even started counting his chews because I was so bored.
Throughout the meeting, I kept looking at his partially eaten 7oz filet mignon—and then at him. I was hoping he would get a hint. He obviously didn’t. I finished my meal a good 45 minutes before he was finished—and his chewing was driving me crazy.
I need to find a good excuse to leave dinner early.
Throughout the meeting, I kept looking at his partially eaten 7oz filet mignon—and then at him. I was hoping he would get a hint. He obviously didn’t. I finished my meal a good 45 minutes before he was finished—and his chewing was driving me crazy.
I need to find a good excuse to leave dinner early.
5 Comments:
That sounds really annoying, Pope. I'm so sorry you had to put up with that.
I'm with John. You are the Pope, for crying out loud.
That is when a case of explosive diahrrea would have been a blessing.
Just fart at the table. Not one of those silent jobbies... you know, a real honker. That ought to either rush him along a little or clear the room. It works when dogs do it.
Dear Mr. Pope,
I second Ms. Hag's suggestion. Sheer brilliance. Not the fart. The suggestion.
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