Take the Red Pill, Neo

“If there were a pill that eliminated your appetite forever, would you take it?”

I’d met a friend for a decidedly poor dim sum lunch. As we were finishing up, he proposed the idea of the hunger-killing pill. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I gazed down at my half-gnawed pork dumpling.

“Let me think about it.”

Food: Would I really miss it? Often I find the daily task of feeding myself a chore… Do I eat in or do I want to go out? If out, where do I go? And then, what kind of cuisine? And what do I order? It’s a three-time-a-day hassle.

Of course, there are also aspects of food and eating that I really enjoy. Hot dogs at a summer barbecue… the chicken parmagiana plate at the restaurant around the corner… steak frités! Would I take a pill that erased all this for me?

I figured the only way to decide was to examine what it was I’d be leaving behind. I mean, what do I really eat? I have no idea—I couldn’t say for sure what I had for lunch two days ago. To gain a better perspective, I decided to take a photo of everything I ate for a week.

I once had to keep a food diary for a dietician assigned to help me get my blood sugar in order. When she saw the first entry, my Sunday brunch of sweet potato pancakes topped with cinnamon apple compote and whipped cream (and syrup), I think she felt challenged. When she saw my Thursday snack, the four chocolate-iced kreme-filled and two raspberry jelly doughnuts, I think she felt abandoned, like Job, me and my food diary standing there, preventing her from feeling the glow of God's love. What I'm saying is, I made this guy look Ewell Gibbons.