Dear lady at the deli,
You seem nice and all, but I don’t really think that “You’re probably not going to eat this whole sandwich, are you?” comment was necessary. And the “It’s a COMPLIMENT” when I didn’t smile and laugh at your comment was certainly not necessary.
Here’s the thing: we could have a whole conversation about body image and women and food and all that fucked up shit, but plenty of people who are a lot smarter than I am wage those conversations every day. All you need to know about me, deli lady, is that I am exchanging my money for your sandwich. If I eat it, eat half of it, or throw it in the garbage unopened, it shouldn’t matter to you because you get to keep the money anyway. I totally get that you might have just been trying to make conversation. I’m the sort of person who talks to strangers in line at the bank, so I would have responded favorably to your attempts at chatter. Maybe next time you could try the weather? Because now I’m really having trouble enjoying this tasty sandwich. So much trouble that I might not even finish it.
