What I wrote last week may sound like a funny little experience but it is actually a big deal to me.  My bitching goes deeper than just pigging out.

What I don’t understand is how people always assume that I eat small portions, or should I say, lady-like portions.  I think that’s unfair!  I, too, would like to enjoy the other sinful and better tasting stuff.  I bet if I were a man, people wouldn’t give a damn if I ordered the entire kitchen.

Who the hell started the expectations of women feeding on modest food servings?  I’m thinking, it has to be the same people who believe that women should not run their own company, and that women will not excel in a machinery business dominated by balls and dicks, and that women with reputable reputations should not post sexy photos in the net, and that women who post revealing internet pics are whores-for-sale.

These people just seem to know that every woman’s destiny is to wear floor length skirts and take care of homes and children.  Anything outside of that is just taboo.

We may be modern in many ways but the age-old machismo mindset is still prevalent in society today.  It’s the idea that some women who are actually in control of their own lives and succeeding in a man’s world screw up the natural balance of mankind.  People, there is just too much room for men in mankind.  Heck, even the word, “mankind” has to have “man” in it.  We need more dominant and respectable women strutting their asses in the net, and more importantly, in society.  And if this means that I have to stuff myself silly more often or start a movement to ban the word, “mankind” in the English language to prove a point, so be it.

Am I just exaggerating?  Is it just me or do you share the same observation that, on this day and age, we are still living in a society that favors men.  I want to know what you all think.

Readers, enlighten me…

Yesterday was one of those days where my mood told me that I deserved to pig out.  Giddily, I rushed to this restaurant to give in to my whim.  The hostess welcomed me and lead me to my table.

“Good morning, ma’an. Your server will be Mark,” said the hostess as she handed me the menu.

“Thank you, but I don’t have to look at the menu, miss. I already know what I want,” I said.

“Okay, ma’am. I will tell Mark to attend to you right away.” And then she turned around and motioned for the server to come to me immediately.

“May I take your order, ma’am,” said Mark.

“I will have the Grilled Beef Salad, please,” I said. He then asked how I’d like the portions to be: lunch or regular? Of course, I was gonna have it on regular portions.

Then he raised an eyebrow and eyed me. “Um, our regular portions are good for two to three persons, ma’am.”

So you think the serving’s too big for me, I thought, annoyed. “I know but I want the regular portion, please.” I knew he was sizing me up and the morsel of irritation was begining to grow. He started to confirm my order but the nerve of this person!

“Wait I’m not done ordering. I want the Shrimp Fra Diablo as my main course, please” I beamed, hiding my annoyance. Again, he asked for the portions. And again, I said regular.

“But that’s too large a serving, ma’am. You won’t be able to finish it,” Mark warned. Oh dear, I thought, the first time I’ve seen this guy and he actually knows how much food can fit my tummy. I looked at him straight in the eye and said with much confidence, “Don’t worry. I will finish it.”

The server went back to the counter to punch my order in. I could see him clearly see him talking with the other servers. They were all stealing glimpses at my direction. They were obviously talking about me. It wasn’t hardto see that there were bettings going on. Will this girl finish her food or will she leave with a doggie bag?

Let’s see about that, I thought as Mark placed the salad on my table. It was abig plate of salad but I knew this was a cinch. I wiped it out with ease. Honestly, the salad along was a hefty meal. But I had a mission. So I wiped my lips and confidently asked for my main course.

The Shrimp Fra Diablo, a pasta dish, was brought to my table. It was huge. I picked up my fork and starting eating. Halfway through the meal, I thought I was going to burst. But I could feel piercing glances from the servers. So went on eating, just to prove that I could finish everything.

I was able to finish my plate.  I could not move and was close to throwing up but I finished my plate. I surveyed the servers. I could see some of them smiling and others shaking their heads in amusement. Yes, I did it! Who’s your daddy now? I thought with pride. I looked at Mark and asked for my check.

“Did you win the bet?” I asked Mark as he handed me my receipt. He was surprised that I noticed the private bettings that went on. “No ma’am. I lost.”

Of course, I gave him a triumphant smile. Good for you. I stood up and left the restaurant strutting like a champion. Of course, what happened next was terrible. I took a pill because I felt so sick. I developed a migraine the whole day. I could not eat the following day. But none of that mattered.

Victory is sweet. So is reversing expectations and scoring an upset—no pun intended.