The Hungry Mirror by Lisa de Nikolits

Author:Lisa de Nikolits [Nikolits, Lisa de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Psychology
ISBN: 9781926708003
Publisher: Inanna Publications & Education
Published: 2010-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

Requesting an exorcism, please

KENNETH TREATS US TO LUNCH on Thursday because he has been driving us so darn crazy with his histrionics. Going to lunch stresses us out more than if we just stayed in and tried to meet our deadline. We are so behind in our work it is frightening, but when Kenneth gets stressed he goes to lunch and he is determined to drag us all with him. He promises to stay and work through the night and have everything ready for us in the morning, and in the meantime, he says, we should all enjoy a free lunch.

No such thing, I think, even lettuce and tomatoes have calories. None of it’s free, no matter what they say.

Meg orders fish because she isn’t hungry, she says. She hasn’t mentioned her marriage since the drinks function and I haven’t brought it up either. I haven’t even told Brit, not wanting to betray a confidence of that magnitude, even though Brit is more of a friend to me than Meg. I don’t tell Brit because I am certain she won’t be able keep it to herself, and then the entire office will know and Meg would rightfully blame me.

Brit orders a whole baby chicken and says she is starving.

I order a vegetable platter and request no butter, definitely nothing fried please, chili sauce on the side, no chips, a small house salad, no cheese or dressing and I say I am pretty hungry.

Brit also orders a side dish of garlic mushrooms, French fries, fried onions and eats two bread rolls smothered in butter. My salad arrives and I offer some to Meg who again says she isn’t hungry. Then she eats the whole thing, except for a cherry tomato and a slice of cucumber that I eat. Meg orders another beer.

Our main course arrives and I examine mine. Cooks never think a vegetable is okay as it is; they always have to adulterate it with some fat or another.

I carefully shovel the dubious suspects aside: the grilled Roma tomatoes that look suspiciously deep-fried, the hummus and pita bread with olive oil. Meg takes my discarded plate of fatty delights and eats them. She also picks at Brit’s French fries and orders another beer.

Meg’s theory is weird; liquids don’t count, and if it comes off another person’s plate or off a snack table, it doesn’t contain calories. I don’t get it.

When we finish eating, Brit says she wonders if she should have ice cream and hot chocolate sauce for dessert. Meg says, yes, for sure, great idea, although she herself of course will not. Brit’s dessert comes and she drizzles chocolate sauce over her ice cream and Meg eats the rest out of the jug. She also eats one of Brit’s scoops of ice cream. Then she excuses herself and goes to the washroom. I spot her coming back, blowing into her hand to check her breath.

Brit and I exchange glances.

Kenneth spends the entire lunch on his cellphone, noisily trying to convince advertisers to support our magazine.

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