they say it's a snack, but it's so much more

they say it’s a snack, but it’s so much more

I

’ve never been good at ending things.

Take this delicious samosa for example. I bought this one at an Indian restaurant with an outsize commitment to healthy eating. Packed with potatoes, carrots and peas on the inside, this samosa could be the perfect lunch.

Eating them isn’t the problem; buying them is.

At first, it was the other customers. You need look no further than this restaurant to see evidence of the direct correlation between food quality and the level of entitlement of the customers who eat there. I’ve watched a couple leave when they realized that there was still 30 minutes to go until the start of Chai Happy Hour. (They weren’t all that gracious about it, either.) And I’ve been subjected, second-hand, to a barrage of questions by crusty, elderly ladies as to what minute substitutions to their order might be made—women with cash who think that the food’s healthful properties, not unlike the blood of virgins to vampires, will keep them among the living for another five minutes.

Then today, it was the restaurant itself. Weary of orders that were placed but never picked up, the location now requires prepayment of to-go orders over the phone. I had to shout my card number three different times because the din in the dining area drowned me out.

But the samosas. I mean, am I really irritated enough to give them up?

Some crafty someone told me recently that if I had begun to avoid social engagements of any particular kind because of the company I might have to keep, it may be time to reassess some relationships. I sighed inwardly. Was she suggesting ending something, somewhere? Perish the thought.

Today, though, with my samosa craving sated and reasonably hopeful that it will stay away for a few days, I wonder: where else might I go for a fresh, small lunch? And, while I’m considering a samosa-free existence, how else might I spend my time if I were only to fill my spare hours with people whose company I entirely enjoy?

Things to chew on, I suppose.