I am a creature of habit when it comes to food. I try to convince myself that I like variety, new tastes, but who am I fooling? I am the person who eats a scrambled egg sandwich on toast for lunch daily in the fifth grade. I am the person who eats a cream cheese sandwich on white bread with the crusts cut off every day in Junior High School. I am the person who right this moment in my life eats a mixing bowl full of popcorn every day including Sundays. Each bowlful is delicious, I savor a mouthful and lick my chops.
One summer when I am married to Peter but still in college I drink tall glasses of iced coffee with milk and four spoons of sugar all day long for two months. Solid food does not appeal to me, that summer, I am too busy to eat because I am having an affair with a married PhD student. He is tall and spindly, an intellectual. We go to a motel on the other side of the George Washington bridge in Fort Lee to fuck, he turns out to have a long spindly penis which I pump up and down on so vigorously that he cries out in pain. I’ve had too much caffeine I think.