Why I Do Not Like Dinner Invitations

People do not listen to me after inviting me to dinner and asking me what I want to eat.  Food is not a big deal for me.  If I could live without eating, then I would.  But since I have to eat, then I like to keep my meals simple as opposed to mixing everything with everything else.  The simpler my meals, the easier they are to digest.  Also, if I keep my meals simple then they do not end up in my pants.  Eating complex meals does not give me much time between having to go, and going.  I have lots of time between having to go and going when I keep my meals simple.

The following is a typical conversation involving a dinner invitation.  The speakers change, but the words stay pretty much the same:

“Gary, what would you like for dinner?”

“Rice is fine.”

“What else besides rice?”

“A bowl of rice is fine.  Whatever dishes you are making with the rice, just set some rice aside for me.”

“You can’t have just rice.  You have to have something with it.”

“Water.  I’ll have a glass of water with a bowl of rice.  Remember, I am not visiting to eat.  I am coming over to see you.”

“I know, but you can’t have just rice and water.”

“But you asked me what I wanted and I told you, and now you’re telling me that I can’t have it.”

“Because you need to eat more than rice.  I have this wonderful vegetarian recipe for goula-goula-boula rice.  It’s got lentils, tofu, tomatoes, onions, carrots, celery, spaghetti, potatoes, garlic, honey, apples, raisins, chickpeas, grapes, chocolate, and cherries.   Doesn’t that sound yummy?”

“It does, but you don’t have to go to all that trouble.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“Okay so make it for everyone else, and just set aside a bowl of rice for me before you mix it with everything.”

“No, you can’t have just rice.  You’ll love the goula-goula-boula rice, and that is what I’m going to make.”

 

This is why I do not like dinner invitations.  The hosts always ask me what I would like to eat, and always ignore my simple answers insisting I eat some fancy-schmancy meal.  The meal is tasty, but anxiety stops me from enjoying it.  While eating the fancy-schmancy meal I keep thinking, “I hope this doesn’t make me shit my pants.  I hope this doesn’t make me shit my pants.”