That food that is barely touched is the equivalent of a Range Rover and 3 months' rent. I took a loan from the bank, took a salary advance and sold my ancestors' land so that I can pay for it. And then you sniff just two spoonfuls and say you are full. You are full? Full of what, crap?

But these women who have the habit of demanding to be taken on expensive dates and then order for expensive food and then eat just one spoonful from their plates and declare that they are full, what gives?

Me, if I'm a man and you demand I take you to that expensive place, and you order that expensive food that has a difficult name, and then you take two bites, two little bites from your plate then announce that you are full, we will fight.

I will fold the sleeves of my shirt and kick off my shoes. I will remove my spectacles and place them carefully on the table. I will get off my chair and hold my fists in front of my face in a ready-to-fight position and ask you what you are waiting for. I will flex my fingers and stretch my arms and move my neck this way and that way, as if I'm Floyd Mayweather and I'm about to beat up the guy who just said that I can't read.

That food that is barely touched is the equivalent of a Range Rover and 3 months' rent. I took a loan from the bank, took a salary advance and sold my ancestors' land so that I can pay for it. And then you sniff just two spoonfuls and say you are full. You are full? Full of what, crap?

We will fight, my friend.

That food that you've pushed away from you saying that you can't eat anymore after two bites is the equivalent of the national budget. I committed fraud and embezzled funds from my employer's company, I got into money laundering and drug trafficking, and I even joined Illuminati so that I can pay for it. And then you just give it a cursory glance and say that you are full. Full of what, shit?

We will fight, my friend.

That food you're looking at as if it's the reason why your ex screwed your best friend is the equivalent of Bill Gates' net worth. I got into organ harvesting and sold people's organs in the black market, I participated in a bank heist and stole shitloads of cash, and I even sold my soul to the devil so that I can pay for it. And then you just hear its name and say you are full. Full of what, evil?

We will fight, my friend.

You do not do that to the buyer of your food. You do not disrespect and insult the chefs who painstakingly prepared the dish like that.

"I don't eat much," you lie.

And yet, when I first met you, which was a few days ago, you were sitting alone at a table in a fast food restaurant eating 5 burgers, 8 large pizzas, 2 dinosaurs, 57 human beings and a whale.

And you don't even want the food wrapped so that you can carry it home.

We will fight, my friend.

I will remove my shirt and my trousers and place them neatly on my chair because I don't want them to be ruined since I will wear them to work tomorrow. I will stand in front of you in my vest, boxers and socks and do a few taekwondo moves and several karate kicks, screaming "hiiiyaa!" in a shrill, high-pitched voice and tell you to come fight me because it seems like you are not afraid of consequences. You will whisper that I am embarrassing you in front of other patrons who are watching us with interest.

The manager will come and ask us what the matter is.

"This one has refused to eat!" I will tell him, pointing at you.

"Why? Is there something wrong with the food?"

"Not the food, HER. SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH HER AND SHE WANTS A FIGHT!" I will say while warming up for the fight.

The manager will calm me down and tell me sensible things like how it's important to solve personal matters quietly and without violence. I will nod and apologise to him.

I will look at the untouched food in front of you. I will look at you for 5 minutes straight and sigh deeply.

Then I will take my clothes and tell you I'm going to the Gents to wear them, I'll be back. I will pass by a waiter and tell him that you'll take care of the bill. That he should give you the bill. Then I will wear my clothes in the parking lot and go home.

Food is a big deal.

Eat.

Or we'll fight, my friend.

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