Hard boiled egg whites, cottage cheese, skim milk. Day 1. Brian sighed.
Boiled rice, a mozzarella slice, lactose-free milk. Day 2. Brian cried.
Yogurt, tofu, almond milk. Day 3. Brian died … just a little.
After receiving the diagnosis “ULCER”, Brian’s wife Ali had been lovingly, carefully packing his lunch. “This must be her White Period”, he thought, wistfully.
Coworkers averted their eyes as they passed Brian’s cubicle on their way to lunch. Gone were the cheerful calls “C’mon, Brian! We’re going to Smokin’ Joe’s Hot Wings for lunch!” or “Salsa and nachos in the break room, guys!” Oh, the humanity!
Brian’s computer *pinged*. An email from Ali: “Hi, hon. Hope you’re having a great day. Did you find the Maalox I put in your backpack? We’re having something special for dinner tonight … poached chicken, brown rice and garbanzo beans … hope you’re hungry! Love ya, babe! xo”
“Ah, Ali’s Beige Period.” Brian stared blankly at the computer screen. “I wonder how many beige foods there are … oatmeal, boiled potatoes, matzoh….”
Brian put his head in his hands, a solitary tear falling through his fingers onto his khakis. Slowly the wet spot morphed into the shape of a slice of pizza. “What the … ?!” Incredulous, Brian blinked and wiped his eyes. “What’s happening to me?!” Images of devilish cramp-inducing, bowel-seizing delicacies danced ‘round his head … jalapeño poppers, tacos, barbecued ribs.
“The dreaded hunger hallucinations!” Sweating, Brian texted Ali. “Babe. Last minute meeting. Sorry, I’m gonna miss dinner. Love ya!”
Grabbing the bottle of Maalox and a Little Caesars menu from his desk drawer, Brian bolted from his cubicle, giddy as a new dad at the birth of his son.
“Outta my way, boys, outta my way!!”
And out he ran, laughing and joyfully shouting, “Jalapeño-effing-poppers, baby!!”
NAR © 2017