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2001-06-08 | 6:08 p.m.

This one is so dumb even I can't believe I did it. The school had the parent volunteer picnic today. The teachers brought all the food for the parents. Going down the table, I come across an enormous stainless-steel vat of something that looks deeply unappetizing. It is some kind of cold salad containing cauliflower (always a risky choice), and green peas. The bottom of the bowl is filled with head lettuce and the whole thing is topped with sour cream and grated cheddar cheese. So what do I do? I take a large spoonful, on the theory that no one else will want to eat it and that might make the person who made it feel sad, so this is my way of sparing their feelings. I don't just take some, I make it the centerpiece of my lunch. I rationalize the move by thinking "I have a cast-iron stomach, I can eat anything." But right away I start to regret the decision, so I dump several spoonfuls of pico de gallo on top of it, going along with the faux-Mex motif.

When I sit down among the others, I am disturbed to discover that this mess---which I see on no one else's plate---tastes even worse than I had anticipated. The sour cream-like substance is not, apparently, sour cream, but rather TO sour cream what Miracle Whip is TO mayonnaise. What it actually is, I couldn't say, but I can tell you this: If you put it in a cold salad on a hot day, it starts to liquefy fast. I eat around it quickly, trying to beat the white ooze to my other food. Meanwhile, I am surrounded by nice individuals who MIGHT have made the salad, and MIGHT notice if I dump it in the trash without eating it. On the other hand, it is inedible. So I eat a few more bites (eugh!), then move it around on my plate to knock over the layers and make it look less tall, then leave my plate on the grass for a long time while I do other things, and then come back later and dump it. I feel sorry for myself because I am still hungry, but I don't want to go back through the line, because I think I ought to be satisfied with my first plate. I should have built it better. Besides, people might notice that I am going back for seconds, and that would be bad.

If the person who made that salad somehow finds her way to this diary, please know that while I really don't want to hurt your feelings, I hope you will never make that salad again, ever.

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