The Thinking Biscuit Eater
Lisa, the Norwegian girl who glows in the dark, was laughing. I suspected that she was laughing at me. Her laughter was a delight to witness, a sizzling, un-self-conscious snuffling giggle that only made her glow more brightly.
“What are you doing??” she gasped, her tone implying that I was behaving like a being from another planet.
I stiffened, sensing an assault on my dignity. “I don’t know what you mean.” I felt uneasy, haunted by a feeling that I did not belong in this world.
“Why are you licking that biscuit so carefully before eating it? And then nibbling it around the edge, like a mouse.” Lisa seemed highly amused and glowed at me like a cat. She now had everyone’s attention so I was obliged to respond.
“My biscuit eating technique is perfectly logical,” I explained, with justifiable pride.
“This delicious biscuit — the increasingly rare Mollenaartje Dutch organic waffle biscuit, captured at great personal risk, always comes out of the packet with little crumbs attached to it. If one were to greedily bite into it after the manner of a wild animal with no control over its impulses, some of those crumbs would inevitably become dislodged and would not only go to waste but would create a mess. This is why it is incumbent upon the thinking biscuit eater to mount a preventative biscuit licking operation.
Furthermore, in order to minimize the chances of any additional crumb generation and to optimize enjoyment, it behooves the responsible consumer to carefully bite off the more brittle edges before eating the moist and therefore less crumb-producing center. This has the added advantage of creating a sense of anticipation, heightening the biscuit eater’s appreciation of the fineness of this particular variety of biscuit. True, it requires a little self-restraint and deft control of the tongue but it is well worth the effort. I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t lick their biscuits and nibble the edges before eating them.”
Lisa appeared to be going into a fit. She was weeping and rolling on the floor. I became quite concerned about her, but the other humans assured me that she was OK, and that she was just laughing. At me. A lot.
I remained calm and took no offense. I found it humbling to think that a consumption strategy which came so naturally to me might represent a revelation to the average Earthling.
In any event, the poor girl was clearly addled in the head, more to be pitied than blamed. Despite which, I was beginning to accept her suggestion that I might be from somewhere very different. Another world? Perhaps. At the very least it was clear that I came from a more civilized place.
My special technique for eating Mollenaartje waffle biscuits came to me quite spontaneously–I was not required to undergo any kind of special training or demanding military regimen. I suppose some people are just born with certain abilities. Until the glowing girl brought it to my attention I was not even aware that this is a remarkable skill.
Now my business advisor is urging me to start a Youtube channel where I teach Earthlings how to eat Mollenaartje waffle biscuits in the proper manner as decreed by natural law. She says that I need to focus on a niche market.
But I suspect that this ‘niche market’ might consist of just one person–the sadly confused glowing Lisa. So I did not act on this advice. With deep regret I have concluded that in the rarified domain of biscuit licking, this world is not yet ready to accept my teachings.