As our extra-large Pride and Joy meat & veggie lovers pizza arrived, the man sitting next to me at The Rock bar says he never eats pizza because it is all carbs, all carbs are bad and he doesn’t eat carbs. The health coach in me rose to my lips and I said right back, ‘who says carbs are bad?’ As he went on about how he eats a healthy, all organic diet, he proclaimed again how bad carbs were. I swallowed my bite of pizza, which was delicious by the way, and I fired off something along the lines of ‘what makes YOU the expert? Are you a doctor, a nutritionist or other trained specialist?’ I need to mention that he was chugging a 16 ounce carb rich, non-organic, maybe GMO loaded, breweski.
Have I ever written on this blog that I might be a little outspoken? OK, Honey might raise one eyebrow (if he could) at the word little. You know why I was rankled? I didn’t even know this guy and he was pizza shamming me. Maybe this isn’t as bad as what Gaga endured after her Super Bowl performance, but really? Dude, we are in a pizza restaurant. People are EXPECTED to order pizza.
I turned my body slightly toward Honey to finish my slice and raised an eyebrow. He nudged my knee under the table, his way of saying leave it alone. It’s the silent language of couples and most seem to have their own dialect. My one sided eyebrow raising skill was learned back in Mr. Luft’s high school social studies class. It was probably one of the most boring classes I ever took, so I usually sat in the back of the room and silently made faces at other back rowers. One guy, and I don’t even remember who, could raise a single eyebrow at a time.
Usually it’s not the guy next to us that tries to ruin the perfect slice of cheesy goodness, it’s the voice in our head. Like him, we have these stories we tell ourselves on a wide range of topics. When it comes to food we tend to repeat restrictive words over and over resulting in a whole lot guilt around our food choices. All foods fit: some more abundantly on a daily basis, some more moderately and less frequently.
And that eyebrow raising skill? Its harder than it looks.
By the end of the semester I was a master.
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