Salubrious Insanity

R's customary grunt upon hearing his name during roll call was mirrored repeatedly and vigorously. Upon leaning in closer, the source of his intensity became perspicuous. With eyes fixated on his hands, R engaged himself in devouring mouthfuls of hot dog at a speed closely associated with Takeru Kobayashi, six-time World Champion Speed Eater. No ordinary bread-encased sausage, this specimen was a dough-swathed behemoth. Mere seconds passed before R assimilated the final chunk and stumbled off to dispose of the wrapper.

"Why did you eat that hot dog so rapidly?" I inquired rather intrusively as he returned. R blinked and made a guttural, inarticulate sound-- of a resonance that revealed he had just recovered from a fit of minor asphyxiation. "So quickly that you choked?" I added.

R replied that he didn't know in a flat tone, his shifting gaze revealing a lack of interest in conversation. I pressed on relentlessly, insisting that he ought to eat less swiftly in the future--supporting my claim by telling him that gradual digestion would lead to greater enjoyment of the pinguid treat. R's eyes glazed over.

"Well, when I eat something I like, the taste doesn't really matter," he attempted to clarify, though only muddying my perception of the matter. His explanation seemed vexingly counterintuitive.

"But," I argued quite vehemently, "taste is the only reason you would even enjoy the hot dog..." Plainly exasperated with the tedium of our discussion, R shrugged and sauntered away.

This exchange stayed with me the rest of the afternoon as I observed eaters (and children) from a seat outside the Coffee Society café. At one point the camp director made a rare visit, buying himself those paragons of sugary ruin-- a cookie and root beer ("What!? I like them!"). This blatant display of insalubrious behavior bothered me unduly, but even more aggravating was the fact that his eating paralleled R's almost exactly--the identical motions of shoveling food into the mouth, the indistinguishably glassy stares. Several minutes later, he too had finished (his period of ingestion was prolonged by the approach of several parents).

Neither appeared to derive any enjoyment from the consumption of his adored foods; eating had become a habitual motion, almost unnoticed by the eater. Earlier this year, an assembly was presented at school: the dangers of using the internet as an escape for daily pressures. Similarly, R's long day of struggle with geometry and the camp director's stressful interactions with demanding parents and irksome staff must have created a need for a distraction, a diversion from the pressures of the day-- a need that was filled by comforting favorite foods.

And yet, how much contentment did the hot dog, cookie, and root beer provide them? Most likely not enough, if their mechanical actions are any indication. Perhaps this justifies the abundance of overweight individuals who also have underlying emotional issues, the innumerable compulsive overeaters, the multitude of eating disorder sufferers-- instead of dealing with their difficulties head-on, they eat.

Awareness is key.