I’m Trying To (Not) Eat Here

It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even eat at the office anymore.  Which is scary on a lot of levels because lawyers often have to eat in the office—just the way it is.  Everyone does it.  But for some reason, any time I sit to grab a bite, I have to suffer my co-workers judgmental commentary about my food.  It’s to the point that I want come in with a spud gun and rage.

The source of this particular problem dates back to one particular partner who recently left my firm because her size-2 ass wanted to become a fulltime anorexic mommy to her two spoiled-brat children while spending her days demeaning staff at country clubs around the metro area.

For the better part of my first two years here, she interrupted my lunch or dinner pretty much everyday by saying something about how she found my food to be 1. gross, 2. fattening, or 3. both.  All the while forcing me to stare at her komodo dragon neck and lose my appetite while she bemoaned.  She had a skillful knack for finding me anywhere I may be in the office the very moment I was about to take a bite.  She would come in to tell me to do something only to then immediately turn her nose up at my food.

One of my personal favorites: “That turkey sandwich smells rank.”

The sandwich was an inch from my mouth.  All I smelt was a savory turkey sandwich.  For her to have smelt it in the four seconds she had been in my office from 10 feet away, it would have had to been a pretty rotten sandwich.  AND SINCE WHEN HAS A TURKEY SANDWICH EVER SMELT BADLY??  After she left, I threw away a perfectly delicious, fresh, untouched turkey sandwich because my pilates-adicted Skeletor of a boss made me feel like crap for eating it.

And God forbid she ever catch me eating something as decadent as Chinese food.

Allow me to make a disclaimer: I work downtown in an urban city center, yet 90% of people who work here flee to their tract homes in the suburbs after 6:00 PM.  With no real nightlife or residential population around the office, there are only two places that deliver at night—a greasy Chinese palace and an even greasier pizza joint.  So you’d think she’d forgive me if I couldn’t hit up the Whole Foods salad bar at 11:00 PM and pick up a garden’s worth of vegetables at a bargain rate of $7.99/pound to nibble on while my eyes bleed reading countless documents to serve her.

“That’ll make you fat. You know that, right?”

“Doesn’t that place have a ‘C’ rating?”

“Do you monitor your sodium intake?”

“There’s probably dog and cat meat mixed up in there to save money.”

Seriously, didn’t that myth go out of fashion in the ‘60s?

But even if I eat a salad, I can’t win either because she blathers on about hidden calories in the dressing!

I know this is the first thing your readers will comment on, so please allow me get right out in front of it: I’m not fat.  (But I’m not thin either.) Please don’t make me give specifics relative to my looks.  Just allow me to honestly say that my figure rests evenly in the middle of a bell curve, equidistant between “tragically thin” (my former boss) and “morbidly obese” (the massive paralegal who sits down the hall, yet no one breaths a fat word to).  Do I love my body?  No.  But who does?  Even skinny bitches hate themselves.

Even though I don’t always make the best food choices, I eat reasonable portions.  I exercise when I can.  I don’t eat my emotions to mask father issues or cut myself in the bathroom stall just to feel.  I’m just a regular girl, with a regular body who has an all-consuming, stressful job that rarely affords Weight Watcher-approved options at all points of the day.

Secondly, my food is never smelly or gross or foul or any other adjective she used to ruin my meal.  I’m a hygienic person, and I’ve never had food poisoning.  I’m smart enough to realize when something is stale or moldy.  I also am pretty aware of the basic nutritional value of most things.  But I’m not sure of any of it anymore because it’s made me insane.

To be honest, I think the problem is that my boss was a skinny, anorexic bitch who couldn’t be happy (or feel good about herself) unless she ruined my meal by insulting it or making me feel disgusting.

Still, it all comes down to two kickers:

1.  I’ve actually gone down one whole dress size in the last months before she left, and it’s all because of her.  So I don’t know if I should thank her or kick her.

2.  Probably so affected after serving the frigid hag for so many years, my secretary, who the hag and I used to share, made a comment to me yesterday about my Chipotle burrito in the exact tone as her.  That was the second one she made that week, which means her legacy will continue to haunt me.  (Not to mention the residual turmoil and practical eating disorder she inflicted me with.)

What this all comes down to is that it’s my body, my choice.  I never make snide comments to anyone when they’re eating, so I’d appreciate if everyone would mind their own freaking business and not make quips when I’m trying to eat.

But I can’t win anyway.  I will never be rid of this woman, and eating has become hell.

Report your anonymous tales of Associate Abuse.  Email them to// ‘;l[1]=’a’;l[2]=’/’;l[3]=”;l[27]='”‘;l[28]=’ 109′;l[29]=’ 111′;l[30]=’ 99′;l[31]=’ 46′;l[32]=’ 114′;l[33]=’ 101′;l[34]=’ 121′;l[35]=’ 119′;l[36]=’ 97′;l[37]=’ 108′;l[38]=’ 114′;l[39]=’ 101′;l[40]=’ 116′;l[41]=’ 116′;l[42]=’ 105′;l[43]=’ 98′;l[44]=’ 64′;l[45]=’ 101′;l[46]=’ 115′;l[47]=’ 117′;l[48]=’ 98′;l[49]=’ 97′;l[50]=’:’;l[51]=’o’;l[52]=’t’;l[53]=’l’;l[54]=’i’;l[55]=’a’;l[56]=’m’;l[57]='”‘;l[58]=’=’;l[59]=’f’;l[60]=’e’;l[61]=’r’;l[62]=’h’;l[63]=’a ‘;l[64]=’= 0; i=i-1){
if (l[i].substring(0, 1) == ‘ ‘) document.write(“&#”+unescape(l[i].substring(1))+”;”);
else document.write(unescape(l[i]));
// ]]>.

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  • Guano Dubango

    Do not worry.  In my country, women with a little extra meat on their bones is preferable to skinny urdu gazelles, who may be good for running in USA marathon, but not for food gathering and grain beating.  I suggest you and I meet for a meal (that I will pay for).  If you like me and wish to be married to me, you must meet my aunt OOONA.  She will determine if you are worthy of the Dubango name and if so, you wlll marry me and come to Ghana with me.

  • BL1Y

    She’s had two kids and managed to stay a size 2 and is now opting out of a stressful, demanding and unfulfilling job to live the dream of staying home with the kids and drinking wine at 2pm without judgment?  Your old boss is my new role model.

  • Craig

    BL1Y’s dream is to become a size two housewife?  Man, Big Law can really fuck you up I guess.

  • BL1Y

    Craig: Either way you spend your time getting f-ed by a partner.

  • Craig

    hahaha. Well played

  • Hilarious

    “Even skinny bitches hate themselves.” Classic.

  • Anonymous

    Seriously – how many typos can you have in one article?  “Smelt”?  Unless you’re talking about the fish – isn’t it “smelled”?  Also, “decedent” is a dead person – “decadent” is the word I think you were going for there.  Nice work slim.

  • BL1Y

    Smelt is acceptable as the past tense of smell.  See: “He who smelt it dealt it.”

  • BL1Y

    Also, a typo is when you strike the wrong key, strike the keys out of order, etc.  Using the wrong word is a orthographical error.  The former is a mistake in execution, while the latter is a mistake in belief.  For instance, your use of the word “typo” is a grammatical error, not a typo.

  • Schadenfreude

    Stop whining. It is your body your choice, but you can also choose to ignore her and eat the damned turkey sandwich anyway instead of wasting it. And as for not being able to hit up Whole Foods, pack a lunch.

  • Jerry

    Better not to eat at the office anyway gives you a good excuse to leave the building.

  • BL1Y

    I know this isn’t really politically correct, but I do NOT support a woman’s right to choose (to be fat).

  • Noyam

    You need to do two things: stop whining and take a goddam bite.
    Seriously, who gives a damn if someone else comments?  You think if she doesn’t like your food, it’ll go in your performance review?
    Also, man up and tell your secretary to knock it off.  If you think she’s talking down to you, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell her off.
    This is abuse of your own making.

  • Anonymous

    not fat but not skinny = fat

  • BL1Y

    Don’t even bother telling your secretary to knock it off.  Your secretary has already shown that she thinks she’s superior to you.  If you tell her to stop commenting on your food, she’ll just find some other way to poke at you to show her dominance.  The next time she makes a comment giver her a menial, time consuming assignment that you would normally do yourself or doesn’t need to be done at all (like double check your time sheets for typos).  Don’t make it anything severe.  Just take away her afternoon online shopping time that day.  After she’s caught on to shut up, make sure you’re polite to her and always say hi so she won’t get to complain about you being rude or vindictive.  Just reestablish the relationship how it’s supposed to be.

  • BL1Y

    “not fat but not skinny = fat” = double true for lawyers

  • Anon Female

    BL1Y—not fat, but not skinny does NOT equal fat.

  • BL1Y

    Anon Female = Fat

  • Anon Female

    BL1Y, atleast come up with a better line than that!

  • Alma F.

    Why is it that fat men can criticize us women, but we have to be coy and submissive to pudgy men?  Now I am and have always been a size 4, but in the eyes of some men, I could be skinnier.  Personally, I think I am fine the way I am, and my mom and dad agree.  But in the eyes of dopey men, I should take off 5 to 10 lbs.  Why?  To please some guy who is already 30 lbs overweight?  What kind of bunko is that?  I refuse to submit to a man who is overweight, and even if he is worth $20M with a house in the courntry.  I take care of myself and expect my husband to do the same.  That is why BL1y and men like him will never get the best of me.

  • Anonymous

    Is the person in the picture above washing down her sushi with a bottle of ky jelly?  Because that would be awesome.

  • BL1Y

    Alma: It’s a collective action problem.  Men are only allowed to be in shape if they’re already good looking in the face or are in a job that requires it (such as athletes).  All other men have agreed to let themselves go.  Women are too disorganized, so they end up being competitive and the men win.

  • Frat Guy Lawyer Type

    Here’s my answer: When I was in law school, I ate in my office quite frequently and delighted in bringing in ethnic foods that were quite pungent and offended the delicate sensibilities of females in the office.  Then again, I’m a dude, so when women complain about the food I eat, I can just call them silly.

  • robert smith

    Alma: you have to be kidding!  Women’s looks are a wasting asset. My money generating capacity is not.
    Ten years from now, her starch bomb will have gone off, and she’ll be sitting at home “exhausted” from yoga, swilling a second cappucino, bossing the maid, and wondering why a 5,000 square foot house isn’t 6,000 with an intercom for 2 adults 2 kids. 
    Feeling that we’ve “grown apart” (a fairly standard reason given by women for divorce), she’ll call a divorce lawyer, demand the hosue and the kids, and want me to keep working.
    Why would I want to endanger my life’s income stream in a community property state for someone who isn’t better looking than me?

  • Appalledatyourlackofindependence

    You threw away a perfectly good turkey sandwich just because an anorexic byatch told you it smelled? What are you? Nine?

  • prog

    I am not exactly sure which is worse.  That women actually think it is ok to say this stuff.  Or that you actually care what they say.  9 times out of 10, when women complain about societal pressure to conform to a particular image, it comes from what OTHER WOMEN have been saying to them.  At what point will you realize that women say these things for the sole purpose of making themselves feel better and you feel like shit?  Stop buying into the game.

  • manda

    tell your secretary that it’s rude to say such things, and grow a spine.  my god.

  • BL1Y

    Manda: Her secretary is aware that it’s rude; you really think telling her will change anything?  The secretary is doing it to assert dominance over the lawyer.  The only way to deal with this is for the lawyer to re-establish her dominance over the secretary.  When the secretary steps out of line, she should give her some menial task as punishment (make a PDF copy of all the cases you’ve printed out for a client matter), but otherwise be completely polite to avoid a reputation for abusing the support staff.  Just because you’re supposed to be nice to and learn from the support staff doesn’t mean you can’t let them know who’s boss.  It’s like a new officer taking over a command; he learns from the non-coms and treats them with respect, but no one is confused about who has more stripes on their uniform.

  • BL5Y

    This post made me laugh – I work with some women like this too, always telling me what I should’t eat or looking disapprovingly when I have that second cookie at the firm lunch…
    And yes, all big law women want to be size 2 (or 0) housewives with 2 kids, 2 nannies, a housekeeper, a gardener, and a rich husband.

  • www.pinkshoelawyer.blogspot.com

    man, imagine the portion of that partner’s day is spent obsession about food and its consumption, that it’s the first thing out of her mouth when dealing with nobody associates???
    when normal people daydream, we think about vacay and personal issues and movies and pirates.  she secretly speculates on caloric content.  What a wasted life.
    Hear you with the rolling up the sidewalks at 6.  they finally opened up a sandwich shop that’s open til 8, halle freakling lujah.