X: Food For Thought
At 3:00 P.M. last Friday, the business development manager who sits in the next cubicle over announced to whomever she assumes wants to hear her random thoughts that she had once again forgotten to eat lunch. This must be the 50th time this woman has made this proclamation in the year I’ve been consulting here as a senior consultant.
How somebody can forget to gas up the body’s tank is beyond me. Is making another sale really more important than fueling the engine? It’s mind-boggling, really. I felt like stuffing a PowerBar down her skinny throat.
As my thoughts drifted back to me, I was reminded of that broiling August day a few years back when poor signage caused me to make a wrong turn while riding a charity century for M.S. By the time I finally managed to navigate my way back onto the course, my bike's computer showed I had ridden 122 miles. I was alone on the road in a sea of cornfields and my carefully calculated—for 100 miles—supply of energy gels, bars, and Cytomax was long gone.
When the jeep of an MS ride official appeared on the horizon, I frantically signaled for the driver to pull over. “I’m going to need that bottle of water you’re drinking and that bag of Cheetos on your seat,” I commanded. “Your organization’s sub-par signage has wreaked havoc on my fueling plan.” As the red-faced official hurriedly handed over the sustenance I craved, I nodded a thanks and got back to the task at hand—finishing the ride. While I wouldn’t necessarily buy a Cheetos-flavored energy bar if it appeared on the market, these Cheetos actually helped me dig deeper for a strong kick in to the finish. Kudos to you, makers of Cheetos and other fine snack products. - Racer X
How somebody can forget to gas up the body’s tank is beyond me. Is making another sale really more important than fueling the engine? It’s mind-boggling, really. I felt like stuffing a PowerBar down her skinny throat.
As my thoughts drifted back to me, I was reminded of that broiling August day a few years back when poor signage caused me to make a wrong turn while riding a charity century for M.S. By the time I finally managed to navigate my way back onto the course, my bike's computer showed I had ridden 122 miles. I was alone on the road in a sea of cornfields and my carefully calculated—for 100 miles—supply of energy gels, bars, and Cytomax was long gone.
When the jeep of an MS ride official appeared on the horizon, I frantically signaled for the driver to pull over. “I’m going to need that bottle of water you’re drinking and that bag of Cheetos on your seat,” I commanded. “Your organization’s sub-par signage has wreaked havoc on my fueling plan.” As the red-faced official hurriedly handed over the sustenance I craved, I nodded a thanks and got back to the task at hand—finishing the ride. While I wouldn’t necessarily buy a Cheetos-flavored energy bar if it appeared on the market, these Cheetos actually helped me dig deeper for a strong kick in to the finish. Kudos to you, makers of Cheetos and other fine snack products. - Racer X
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