satisfied
Whenever I order pizza with a small group of people, I'm always pretty worried that I won't get my fair share. Well, not really my fair share, but more like the number of slices I think I need to feel satisfied. Usually, the number of slices I think I need to feel satisfied is one more than what I will get I we divide the pizza evenly. When it gets down to just two or three slices in the box, I watch the other people carefully to see if they plan on eating them and robbing me of my fair share.
"I'm done if you want the rest of that," the other person will say.
"Are you sure?" I say.
Then I take the second to the last slice of pizza and eat it. By now I feel pretty full. In fact, I'm really full, like I have to undo a button on my pants.
But there's one more slice in the box.
"You don't want that last piece?" I say politely.
"No, go ahead. It's all you," the other person says.
Then I eat the last slice of pizza and I feel really disgusting and bloated.
Still, for some reason I do not feel satisfied.
8:01:44 PM 
|
