It’s happening right now. I’m 3/4 through the work day and it’s time to enjoy some scrumptious well-earned lunch. It’s a time of relaxation and to give yourself a chance to recharge for the last 2 hours of work. Only getting off work on a Friday rivals the importance of this delicious weekday ritual. And I’m not allowed to enjoy this anymore and that fucking sucks. A newer employee by the name of Dong (haha) has joined the crew and has resided in his lunch time slot being the same as mine. Normally I’d be perfectly fine with this and enjoy the camaraderie co-workers tend to share and we could talk about work shit and complain.
Dong is not like most co-workers. Dong embraces being asian and not so American in the least bit besides being able to speak broken English. Part of embracing your ethnicity involves eating food from your homeland whenever possible, wherever possible. Dong brings an authentic Asian soup every single day and slurps the fuck out it like he was a character in a mildly humorous Japanese cartoon. It’s not a funny childish slurp coming from someone who doesn’t know how to eat properly. This is the kind of slurp that embodies the thought of puking in your mouth, it’s a purposeful man-slurp where he brings the bowl to his mouth and shovels the contents in with chop sticks. Why do you hate me Dong? Is it because I bring celery sticks and peanut butter and the snap of the vegetable drives you to find shelter in your slurps. I used to be able to calmly watch YouTube videos and come back to work rejuvenated and fit for another 2 hours of folding paper. I am a husk of who I used to be.
Maybe I am putting too much on you, asking you to change your eating habits. You are your own human being Dong. No amount of quickly laden eye glances from myself are going to stop you from eating how you want to eat. I will not combat you with even louder food, nor will I put up a sign that says “NO SLURPING ALLOWED”. I will simply let you be. You win.
Posted in: Shortened Stories