(I wrote this today for a project I'm working on and, upon reading it back just once, I have declared it to be the worst analogy every written. Rest assured, this is not self-deprecation; its a simple statement of fact.)

I have changed my own definition of popularity.

In my younger days I viewed the whole concept the same way a lot of people look at an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. If one’s plate represents one’s circle of friends, the goal is to load up with as much food as possible. For some, one particular item on the buffet line—say, chicken fried rice—is so appealing that it stands alone on the plate, and I would equate this arrangement to the various cliques one finds in high school: the stoners, the jocks, and so forth. Conversely, there are those who love the all-you-can-eat buffet because of the pure, gluttonous variety it offers, from salad to buffalo wings, from California rolls to that nasty ambrosia salad stuff. The opportunity to overload one’s plate with such a diverse assortment of foods reminds me of the people in high school who had friends across the spectrum of cliques and groups on campus. If you were popular in high school, you had a plate piled high with food.

But the buffet disgusts me now. The food, like the high school friendships in most cases, is of poor quality, poor taste, poor consistency, and it generally leaves me feeling nauseous. Today, for me, popularity means quality, not quantity. It means sitting down at a restaurant, eating a properly portioned plate of good food. It means savoring the food, not devouring it like a pig being plumped so it can ultimately end up as the piece de resistance in some Midwestern family’s Christmas dinner. It means actually considering what I eat: what its made of, where it comes from, where its flavors come from.

I may not have a lot of food in front of me nowadays, but I have enough, and I know for fact that it’s delicious.

Comments

Never write on an empty stomach

I get this. I totally get this.

And, for the heck of it I'll just go ahead and say that you're my garlic mashed potatoes. Flavorful and filling, feel-good food.

I get this. I totally get this.

And, just for the heck of it I'll go ahead and say that you're my garlic mashed potatoes. Flavorful and filling, feel-good food.

Exactly.

And truly.

I'd have to say that some of my best friends are those that I made in high school. However, I do need to say that I did not order them off of the buffet. We ordered each other off of a very descriptive menu at the finest restaurant in town.

When you are ordering off of the buffet keep in mind that buffets are usually picked over, and don't forget that they are tainted with germs and gossip.

Um, I think this is actually a completely fantastic analogy. Does that make me lame? Ok sure, the chicken fried rice probably doesn't belong there unless you're at a Chinese food buffet, but the analogy of quality vs. quantity is right now. Sizzler was my favorite restaurant growing up, now you couldn't pay me to eat at one. What does it say about my husband that he loves to eat at Souplantation? Bleck!

Word. I'm glad we get to sit at the same table, friend.

Is it weird that this made me hungry?

My friendship road has been closer to going to a tapas restaurant. I've carefully considered the options and have chosen unique, tasty dishes that somehow all go together.

It may not be the best analogy, you're right, but it's very true.

I don't think it's the worst analogy ever written at all. The only thing you're missing is some liver. And fava beans. And a nice chianti.

So true. It's all about quality--not quantity. I was told while growing up: You can never have too many friends. When my oldest daughter was 12 she told me that "friends" were too much work. Having more than one made her tired. So true. So true. Great post.

Tastes like chicken.

Hmmm... well, then by this analogy, I've got some friends that are Rocky Mountain Oysters--they seem repulsive, but actually aren't half-bad.

Thank G dash D we all have the lists on Twitter to gauge our popularity and friendships by.

Dude, so what you are basically saying is you want to eat your friends?

Hold on a second. Are we talking Facebook Friends? Because THAT makes total sense...

I learned this about a year ago. It's a good feeling to know who your friends are.

rather than it being the "worst analogy" I think its just about 100% spot on... so true!!!

If we are sticking with the analogy (which isn't settling well with me for some reason), then all I can say is that my tastes have changed through the years. I went from McD's friends (quick, cheap, meaningless) to buffet style (of which I have gorged on like a frat boy on Sunday) to what I have today: tapas. Another commenter mentioned it but I have to agree...small portions of a wide variety that, somehow, taste great together. Er, play well together.

Yeah...I order my friends off the A la carte...and you, Danny? You're the ranch dressing on my salad...you make everything taste better :D

Well said.

I don't know. It makes perfect sense to me.

And now I'm starving.

cheesy.... mmm... cheese.

A friend of mine has said for years that I completed her and that now her plate is full. She says I'm right next to the broccoli. I don't know what that means, but I assume it's good?

don't like it at all. I have taught my son who just started the dreadful years of jr high, to try to be friends with all types of people, the jocks, the brainiacs, drama geeks (maybe not so much the stoners) If we all had only a few friends who were just like us, what a dull way to live. I think we need to be exposed to all types of personalities in order to understand ourselves better. OK after re-reading this I realize it sounds like the question potion of a Miss America contest, but it doesn't make it any less true!