Two Traits
Over the past few days, I've become publicly aware of several traits of mine that are both noticeable and exploitable to others. Neither of these traits have any real significance in the long term, but they could, I guess.
First off, let's deal with one that has bothered me for many years, that being my slow eating. Now, this has never been quite as severe as I have been led to believe, but the other night, I was publicly called on it by a total stranger. In the midst of a nice, late meal at my favorite diner with Benedict, the waitress came by, in one of her infrequent visits to our table I might add, and said, "God, you eat slow." Personally, I believe that, to use one of Benedict's terms, waitresses in this joint can get a little "punchy" after a certain hour. This is understandable due to the very nature of the twenty-four hour all-night diner, which, I assure you, attracts a very wide array of personalities. For example, we encountered on this very evening three distinct personalities in our vicinity: a drunken goon proclaiming his political beliefs, a group of punks in every sense of the word who peppered their speech with "fuckin" in every possible instance, and, finally, a worker who helped himself, as witnessed by Benedict, to more than one piece of pie from their cabinet. This is a typical representation of the types of people who populate this place at late hours.
Back to the "slow eating" accusation. Why is this a bad thing? I've been heckled about this by a wide array of acquaintances as being a bad thing, as far back as high school where lunch is timed to a finite amount. Is it, though? I don't think so, but others apparently do. My theory is that people are in such a hurry these days to complete tasks, most of which they believe to be unnecessary to life, and eating becomes entangled in this hurrisome habit. What they do with their time after they hurry up and complete the necessary tasks is beyond me.
Is it really that hard to slow down and enjoy things? I don't want to imply that I believe that each and every meal might be my last, so I really take my time eating. I just like to enjoy my meal at a slow pace. Why? Well, I like to TASTE my food. I see others eating so fast, and I'm disgusted. How can you possibly even taste whatever you're eating if you're chewing so fast and swallowing without any sort of momentary pause? I'm not eating slowly because I think I'll lose weight by doing so; although, this is a viable reason for doing so.
Of course, there are certain difficulties encountered with being slow. The very nature of the being labeled "slow" in any respect conjures up notions of being totally defective in many ways, including, but not limited to, intellectual capacity. Of course, maybe I'm reading too much into the constant comments about eating slowly. Do people believe I have diminished mental abilities because it takes me forty-five minutes to eat a sandwich? I doubt it, since I can think of many other things I could do that would lead people to believe I'm "dumb" that are more overt in nature. I try to avoid these, as we all do, but they happen sometimes. I'm sure there's someone out there who thinks I'm not the "sharpest knife in the drawer," but that's unavoidable in a day and age when you might make tons of first impressions on any given day. But this leads me to the disturbing, in my mind other trait that I possess that I'm disturbed by.
I can't remember things. I really can't. I can't remember names when they've just been told to me. I can't remember movies that I've seen. I can't remember, and this is the most disappointing to me, books that I've read. And I can't remember facts that would allow me to tell others. For instance, speaking with Benedict the other night, in fact the same night I was labeled a "slow eater," I tried to tell him about a specific section of a book I was reading. Guess what? I totally mangled it. It wasn't right. Some of it was, but not all of it. How lame is that? That's like mangling a joke, but this is worse.
I've noticed that I've gotten worse about this over the years, especially with books. I read books, but then I can't remember a single thing about them. It doesn't matter if they're fiction or non-fiction, but for obvious reasons, the non-fiction titles contain much more facts to be digested, which would be much more beneficial to my overall knowledge. For example, I just finished a book about the history of the Republican Party (I know, it's ironic that I'd be reading that considering this is called "Liberal Agenda"), but I don't remember tons of facts about that book. In fact, I remember very little of it. I've read many, many books about the so-called "liberal media" and most of them repeat various facts and anecdotes, but I can't remember them enough to recite them word for word. What gives?
Now, my one and only theory that might explain this defect, is that, unlike eating, I read too fast. In an effort to finish books quickly, so I can either return them or, more likely, check out more, I feel like I might be reading a lot faster than necessary. This isn't the library's fault, obviously, since someone else might want these books, and if I wanted it that badly, I'd just buy it. What I do know is that I know what I like. I can recall which books were worth my time and which ones weren't. I wish I could reverse this trend, but I don't think I can. In fact, I don't think I want to change either of these traits. I like eating slowly and reading quickly. It might not do me much good to do either, but I don't know what can be done to alter this in the least. Any suggestions would be welcome, but I can't say I'll remember them later.