Next time you’re in the lunch room, see if you can spot someone who does the following:
- They sit down to eat for 10 minutes.
- While they’re sitting, they only talk about work.
- The only thing they eat is a tiny bowl of soup (with an optional side-salad consisting of three leafs of lettuce).
Congratulations! You’ve identified a Level I Soup Martyr.
These keeners who deliberately forsake solid food so they can get back to work as soon as possible just BUG ME. Oooh, aren’t they SO BUSY and SO INDISPENSABLE? Don’t you wish you were more like them?
Gee, maybe the rest of us lazy slobs should also gulp down our food, instead of selfishly eating tuna fish and (gasp) using up the ENTIRE 45-minute lunch break.
But that’s only a Level I Soup Martyr. At least these guys will make an appearance at lunch and pretend to socialize. The Level II Soup Martyr, on the other hand, won’t even take the lousy 10-minute break. They’ll bring their meal back to their office and catch up on work-related reading.
My God, that’s just SAD.
While they’re at it, why dont’ they wear a hair shirt and start flagellating themselves in public?
A Soup Martyr can be anyone, but (big surprise) they’re usually senior managers who are graduates of the Chip Implant Academy. Poor souls, they’ve been “assimilated” into believing Uncle Big Brother is more important than basic bodily functions like eating. (Sleeping is next to go, followed by family life.)
But at least the Level I and Level II martyrs are only affecting themselves. They’re relatively harmless. Who you REALLY have to watch out for are the Level III Soup Martyrs.
These individuals have achieved the highest level of Meal Martyrdom. They have attained a Zen-like state where they are able to fore-go the midday meal altogether, and can work on nothing but fumes and feelings of Action-Oriented Proactivitiy. What makes Level III’s dangerous is they assume everyone else can (and shall ) be able to match their standards of workaholism.
For example, I was once at a meeting that (I kid you not) went non-stop from 9:30 AM to 1:30 PM. There was no coffee served, no food brought in, and no pee breaks were called.
Everyone just sat at around the table, afraid to leave, while Mr. Marquis de Sade soldiered on, covering each of the several hundred items on the agenda. Meanwhile, people to my left and right were dropping like flies. (I think one person ended up on the floor in a fetal position, sobbing).
Worst. Meeting. Ever.
Towards the end, I was so delirious from lack of hunger, that I had visions of getting on the table and throwing my feces around the room, just like an enraged, stressed-out Chimp would. (AEEECK! AEEECK! AEEECK! )
(Fortunately the meeting ended and it didnt’ have to come to that.)
THAAAAANK YOU, Mr. Soup Martyr!
Moral of the story is, if you ever feel you’re too busy to eat, and you want to cut your lunch break short, watch out! You don’t ever want to become one of THEM.
The good news, though, is there’s a simple cure. Next time you feel like over-working, just order a Super-Deluxe Double Cardiac Burger with fries and gravy. By the time you’re finished eating, you’ll be ready for a nap at your desk, and all feelings of Soup Martyrdom will have vanished.