EATIN’ MY WAY

January 14, 2026

by Rusty W. Mitchum

I found out the other day that I may be the fastest eater in the world. I’m serious. Janet and I were out eatin’ at a restaurant the other day and I was chowin’ down like I always do, and when I looked up, everyone was starin’ at me. Not just the people around us, but everyone in the restaurant. Well, that’s not entirely true. Janet was not starin’ at me. She was lookin’ down tryin’ to hide her embarrassment.

“What!” I said loudly, and then everyone turned away and acted like they hadn’t been lookin’. Well, all but one man.

“Man, you eat fast,” a man at the table next to us said.

“No,” I replied. “Everyone else eats slow.”

“Slowly,” he corrected.

“What?”

“Slowly. The word is slowly.”

“What word?” I asked.

“You said, everyone else eats slow, and instead of the word slow you should have used the word slowly.”

I looked over at Janet. She gave me her “Be nice or I’ll kick you under the table” look. I composed myself.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Charles,” he replied.

“So Charlie,” I smiled, “what are you an English teacher or somethin’?”

“It’s Charles,” he said. Again, I looked at Janet, and she gave me another look. I smiled again.

“Okay Charles. What do you do for a livin’?”

“I’m a consultant.”

“Fascinatin’,” I said and went back to scarffin’ down my food.

“You know, you really shouldn’t eat that fast,” Charles said. I set down my fork.

“Look Chuck,” I said.

“Rusty,” warned Janet. I looked at her for a few seconds, and then I smiled and looked back at the man.

“It’s Charles,” he said again. I gritted my teeth, but continued to smile.

“Sorry. Charles. You are probably right. I shouldn’t eat so fast.”

“You should savor every morsel,” he said. I looked back at Janet, my eyes pleadin’. She shook her head. I looked down and worked up another smile.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll try that.”

“Glad to help,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “Why don’t you show me how to savor?”

“Rusty,” warned Janet.

“How do you mean?” said Charles.

“Well, you see, I’ve been eatin’ like this all my life. I really do not know how to savor somethin’. Take French fries for instance. I eat them five or six at a time; after, of course, draggin’ ‘em through a pile of catsup. Should I eat them one at a time?”

“Well, I’m not really a French fry eater.”

“Of course you’re not,” I replied.

“But,” he said, “I can see where eating them one at a time might give you more pleasure.”

“Really, “I said, and then put one of my elbows on the table and my chin in my hand as if I was really interested in what he had to say. “Do tell.”

“Well, by eating them one at a time, not only can you enjoy the eating experience, but it is better for your digestive system.”

“Wow,” I said. He smiled smugly.

“Yes,” he continued, “but mostly it is about the eating experience.”

“So,” I asked, “I shouldn’t be eatin’ M&Ms a handful at a time then?”

“Oh no,” he said. “They should be eaten one at a time; that is if you are into eating sweets.”

“Sweets are a no-no then.”

“Absolutely.”

“What about bacon?”

“Oh please,” he said. “Don’t get me started on bacon.”

“You know,” I said. “I bet you are in favor of our government telling us what to eat, aren’t you.” Janet kicked me under the table.

“Well,” he said. “Not everybody needs to be told what to eat, but I think that some need to be educated as to what would be best for them.”

“Really,” I said. “Watch this.”

Hey waiter!” I yelled. The waiter turned and came to our table.

“Sir?”

“You got any chocolate cake?”

“Yes, sir we do?”

“Good,” I said and smiled at the man. “Now, do you have any bacon, you know like for makin’ your BLT’s and such.”

“Uh, yes, sir, I’m pretty sure we do.”

“Good. Will you please get me a piece of chocolate cake, with bacon on top?”

“Well, I don’t know, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks,” I said, and he walked away.

“Now, Chucky, Charlie, or whatever the heck your name is, let’s pretend you’re the government, and you are gonna take my bacon cake away from me when it shows up. I’m really interested in seein’ how you’re gonna do that. Now, to be fair, I’m gonna warn you; I am not goin’ to just roll over let you take it. Oh no, I’m gonna fight for my bacon cake. ow, are you ready to play?”

“Humph,” he said, and got up.

“Aren’t you goin’ to finish your supper there Chucky? You’re leavin’ a lot to be savored.” He put his nose up into the air, turned, and left.

I turned and looked back at Janet. Her upper eyelids were halfway down her eyes. She was givin’ me “The Look.”

“What?” I said. “He started it by meddlin’ in my business. I tried to be nice.” She continued to stare.

“So,” I said. “You goin’ to split this cake with me or what?” She sighed.

“You get the bacon,” she said.

“That’s my girl,” I replied.