a culinary confession

Sometimes for lunch I go to the St. Mary's Hospital cafeteria.

I work at a university, as many of you know. There I have three options for lunch.

I may attend the university cafeteria. The lines are long, it is a loud and crowded room (many students among the crowds), and the food is criminally overpriced.

I may eat in the faculty dining room. The food is generally mediocre (though reasonably priced), but the room has no windows, and (worst of all) I may be compelled to speak or eat with a colleague from my own or another department. Now, lest you think I would speak ill of my colleagues, I am not doing so. Often I am happy to dine with fellow members of the professoriate. However, on some days I simply wish to be left alone to sulk over my bland meal in delicious self-pity and general greasiness.

I may off campus -- much walking, much waiting, and much spending.

So I sometimes go over (a short distance) to St. Mary's. The food is pretty good, actually, and it's fairly cheap. Plus, I never run into anyone I know. I feel a bit anxioius or guilty, however, as I devour my clumsily constructed sandwich. Since I don't work at the hospital, I feel like I'm getting away with something -- unless I happen to have a sick relative or friend there. On the other hand, I'm giving them business, aren't I? And isn't my money going to help keep the hospital running?

So, maybe, I'm some sort of hero....