Eight Weeks of Planning Comes to A Conclusion at A Main Event
Determine you are too busy juggling multiple phone calls and headsets and clipboards to sit and eat like a respectable adult. Resort to handheld foods only: chocolate chip cookies; single raspberries quietly plucked from the top of the fruit arrangement; tortilla chips stealthily dipped into the crab dip. Marinate with bottomless red wine. Finish with Excedrin and Pepto Bismol nightcap.
Nursing the Wrath of Grapes: Post-Event, Pre-Office Duty
Squint through the migraine fog using only the glow from your iPhone to navigate to kitchen. Eat Cheez-its from the box by the handful. Wake up in the morning, hand still in the box.
Your Best Friend is Leaving Your Company for His Dream Job
Insist on multiple goodbyes, prolonging the departure for as long as possible. At the first goodbye luncheon, order a giant burger, stare into the sun as you do the best you can with your so-happy-for-you face. Eat the entire thing, or don't. It doesn't matter anyway.
At the final goodbye lunch, your very last coworking outing, order another giant burger. Actually eat the entire thing, listlessly wonder why your particular sandwich arrived without pickles. Feel suddenly bereft. No pickles. No more best colleague. What's the point?
Following A Completely Unprovoked Crying Jag (You Never Cry, Like A Man)
Salty caramel gelato, with a healthy infusion of chocolate caramel truffles, soaked in your favorite bourbon. Three scoops. One shot.
Forget Your Best Friend of 16 Years's Birthday and Feel Like a Total Shit
Order the healthiest salad on the menu. Scratch that. Order the most cheese laden item on the menu. To hell with it, have the salad too. Bring fork to face, repeat until her sadface subsides, your guilt riding along with it.
Quietly resolve to make reservations for a much fancier birthday dinner next week. Whereupon you order much the same thing, quantifying the scale of your apology with how much dairy you dare consume.
Go home alone, without dessert, you don't deserve it.