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  • Seven Wonders
  • M. G. Stephens (bio)

Envy

How wonderful that envy, the file I had for it, is empty. Does this mean that I no longer have it? That I am finally done with it?

Gluttony

Stuffed, I get up from the table, burp, and go in the other room. I have eaten too much. I should have eaten one portion of the pasta, which I made, its sauce rich with onions and garlic, tomatoes, tomato sauce, herbs, and spices. On the side, I cooked escarole with lemon and garlic. I had bread made by a friend who is a fine baker. I drank a lot of grape juice. I ate more bread. I had another serving of the pasta; I helped myself to more ’scarole. I am completely and totally stuffed. I am fit to be tied to a tree, and shot dead for being a glutton. Because, besides what I have mentioned already, I ate some Italian cheesecake, my favorite dessert after carrot cake and apple or pecan pies. But I did not eat apple or carrot or pecan; I had a big piece of the Italian cheesecake that oozed with ricotta. But that was not the end of it. I had more cheesecake; I drank more grape juice. I picked more at the cake. Then I washed the dishes, and as I washed, I picked at the pasta and the ’scarole once again. There was some bread left on the table—I had no idea when I would see my good friend again any time soon which meant that I wouldn’t be able to sample his delicious bread for awhile—and so I ate another piece of bread. The bread made me hungry, but not hungry enough to eat more pasta, so I simply dipped the bread into the tomato sauce, using it like a sponge. I sopped the tomato sauce onto the bread, and I ate more. After drinking some espresso, I decided to eat [End Page 117] more cheesecake. After all, I was by myself. No one was watching. Who cared? That’s when I let all restraints go. I said to myself, “No one is watching. Eat what you want.” So I ate everything, leaving nothing in the pasta bowl; nothing on the plates with escarole or cake; no bread left on the cutting board. Stuffed, I went to the other room.

If gluttony be a sin, cast the first stone. I have eaten too much food, not just this night, but throughout my life. Oh, of course, others may not know this. I am not a binger and a purger, not someone who starves himself then pigs out. I am a steady eater, but also a stealthy one. I eat quickly, quietly, without bringing attention to my enterprise. Perhaps that is due to growing up in a family where at least 11 people ate at the dining room table every night, the nine children and our two parents, though our parents were as childish as we were. So I’ve always considered that 11 children dined nightly in an orgy of recrimination, accusations, insults, shouts, and often enough, fist fights. So I ate quickly, silently, with the intention of bringing no attention to myself.

It is possible for me to eat a meal in two minutes flat that might take another person a half-hour to eat. I don’t eat by stuffing my face; I’m a steady shoveler. You would not even notice that I eat this way except that the food from my plate disappears quickly. After the fact, people are amazed. How did I eat so fast? My mouth full, I say, “I have no idea.” But I do have an idea or two about how it is done. You eat servings that are not too small nor too big; an average-sized serving, for instance, would be too small for this work. You need to get a mouthful on the fork, then put it way back in the throat. It helps to have a good stomach because you are not going to chew very well; that is because already the fork is back on the plate, scooping...

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