But WHO will finish my meals?!

But who will finish my meals?

I thought as Adam walked out of my apartment. I find it odd that this was the first thought to enter my mind. I really love Adam, I mean, not in the boyfriend-girlfriend way, in a sibling type way.

           

I guess I should explain my question…

I am what people call a “foodie”; someone who loves really good food. I’m the someone that people call when they want to know a good place to eat or drink. That crazy food lover who writes a column in the local newspaper about food; that’s me. But there’s something that really bothers me about my being a foodie, and that is my miniature appetite. I just don’t eat very much, I can never finish my food, and I don’t do left-overs. Watching that beautiful food go to waste always brings my a little sadness to my heart.

            That’s how I met Adam. I was out alone, trying out the pub food at a small local Irish pub I had never been to. So I sat at the crowded bar, elbow to elbow with my neighbors. It was the classic problem: I’m right handed and Adam, sitting on my right, is left handed. After knocking a couple of bites off of each-other’s forks, we started to chat.

Adam is a foodie too. I mean, not professionally like me, he doesn’t write a column or anything, but he knows and loves food. We had been to many of the same places but never met before.

When we had chatted a while, I noticed Adam was done eating. I looked longingly at his gloriously clean plate, nothing wasted, and then back to my half eaten dinner.

“Adam..” I began “would you like to…would you like the rest of my food?” I looked into his eyes eagerly.

“Sure,” was all he said.

I slid my plate over excitedly; it was instant friendship.

I could sample glorious foods and have the satisfaction of nothing going to waste!

            Adam and I became foodie friends. We knew all of the best places to eat, and those places knew us too. We talked of our love of food, music, art and legos. We shared a love of over-tipping our servers and of rich, dark beers. So much in common, yet we never considered romance.

            I wouldn’t say I’m lonely. I have my cat, Fred William the third, and I have my newspaper column, but it was really nice to have Adam.

           

So here I am. Standing alone in my apartment. Adam just told me that we couldn’t go on frequent foodie dates anymore.

            Apparently Adam was lonely. Apparently Adam likes me in a girlfriend-boyfriend way and he knew I didn’t reciprocate.

So Adam found a girlfriend.

Now Adam can take her to places we found and order off the menu for her. Now he can eat her left-overs, leaving two happy, clean plates.

And here I am left wondering, who will finish my meals