I don’t know how to eat.
You’d think after some 50,000 meals that I’ve had in my lifetime I would have figured out this eating thing. It’s not the physical act of ingesting food that’s got me stumped. It’s not the chewing, and my fork skills are excellent.
It’s the tasting.
Food, for the most part, is something that I simply consume. It’s no different than regular unleaded is to my Honda Accord. When the tank gets empty it’s time to refuel. Spending a great deal of my time on the road affords me the opportunity to sample a wide variety of not-so-good-for-you fast foods. Far too many of my meals begin with a static-filled conversation involving a speaker and a window.