We Don’t Eat the Last Piece

With that little distraction of the SCOTUS behind us, we can now return to the important business of proving Midwestern Politeness.  And that I have done below. There you will see just a single oatmeal cookie, a single lemon bar, a single cakeball, a single Korean roll, just one “little smokey,” a unitary strawberry, a lonesome enchilada, another friendless lemon bar, and, finally, a deviled egg lacking ova-demonic company.   They are all from social occasions – mostly office parties or church potlucks – and, together, they show that, to Iowans, it’s just not polite to eat that last piece.

You’re wondering about methodological soundness? I’m ready for you. No, I didn’t sit next to the food tables waiting for the time when there would be one piece left.  These are truly abandoned items of food. Well, all except for the little smokey, and I’m convinced that this last little smokey was eaten with malice aforethought by a Presbyterian elder after I had just shown him some of the below pictures. That was my mistake; telling him about my research when he was one of the research subjects was clearly a mistake. Anyway, he’s originally from the Northeast, where wrangling over last pieces can lead to emergency room visits. 



Filed under Blues, Doodling in the margins

2 responses to “We Don’t Eat the Last Piece

  1. Sharing this on Facebook. Hilarious.

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