Things I Don't Get

This installment: WHY people feel the need to comment on other people's food.

This past Sunday, I was at the checkout for my weekly groceries when the woman at the register commented on my weeks take. "Wow, you eat really healthy." Really? Do I need your commentary? Thank you for noticing? What do you say to that? Well, little miss nosy didn't even give me a chance to reply when she followed that with, "What's your secret?" My secret? There's no secret...if I don't buy it, I won't eat it. Therefore, junk food tends to stay out of my cart. Viola! Brilliant! How about that?!

It's not just that, it's the "Ew, that looks so gross." and the "That's all your eating?" that really get to me. In a society overflowing with giant servings and plates the size of tables, I get that a lot of people see servings disproportionately, but if you don't know my eating habits, or what I've had during the day, or what I plan to stuff my face with later on, please mind your own plate. It makes me feel weird, and I get cranky when you comment on my food. And really, just because I may like something, and you don't, doesn't automatically make my food gross. If you watched me dump curdled milk over my cereal, sure it would look gross, but very rarely do I need your two cents on that...I know that would look gross. Even when friends order something I wouldn't eat, I don't turn my nose up and poo-poo their food choice. I'm not eating it, I don't care. Just like you're not eating my whatever it is grossing you out, so just let it be. Mmm'kay?

Things I don't get

Okay, so there's a lot of things I don't quite get. But, I think this will be a regular thing I do in order to express my confusion, frustration, shock, whatever it is.

Today's topic: Cat-calling.

So this morning, I'm walking to Dunkin' Donuts to get my morning coffee and as I'm walking I pass a group of 5 or so guys. They immediately start up, and I ignore them. From the group I get "oooh sexy walk" because obviously I'm working the street like I'm working a McQueen runway, a kissy sound, and god only knows what in some language I don't know.

So really, what was I supposed to do? Rip off my clothes right there and say "let's go"? And honestly, had I stopped and said something, what would they follow it up with? "Hi, I'm Jeremy..."? Oh man, you're such a dreamboat! How'd you know I've been waiting to hear those words all my life!

Seriously, it was just too much before my morning coffee. Don't these people know that while I'm awake, I'm not functioning (and sometimes rather grumpy) until I have that coffee? I just don't get it. What is it that makes guys feel the need to call out to women in that kind of way. Do I look like the kind of person that wants to feel like a piece of meat? Was it because I was wearing open-toe shoes? Maybe these guys have a foot thing, and really enjoyed my blue painted toenails? Either way fella's, you just amuse me...and then I belittle you and mock you later. Don't say I didn't warn you.

...And if it was the feet, you've got the wrong girl.