Ap·pe·tiz·er (n.): a small dish of food or a drink taken before a meal or the main course of a meal to stimulate one’s appetite.
I know that’s not a very good beginning to an essay, but I did not realize that the purpose of an appetizer was to get me interested in food.
Even with Webster’s often-bizarre definitions, that one is way off the mark.
Everyone knows what an appetizer is: to give you something to eat while you’re impatiently waiting for the food you want to eat.
It’s why, when you’re impatiently standing over your pot of spaghetti, you open up a package of potato chips lying on the counter and indulge. After all, the spaghetti has taken too long, right?
Once you have a certain amount of passion for a project, because we are infested with impatience, time passes very slowly.
Even in the world of romance, we have kissing to keep us hot while we pursue fondling and end with the main course.
I guess kissing is an appetizer. What appetizer would you compare it to?
- Certainly not nachos. Too spicy.
- Since there’s some “frenching” involved with it, maybe some fries.
- I don’t know–you can insert your choice. Wait! I think I’ve arrived at it: mozzarella sticks with a little mariana sauce.
There you go. End of discussion.
I always get tickled when we come up with such dainty descriptions and definitions for our more animalistic appetites.
Back to the subject of romance–we often tell people that we were “making love” instead of “grinding and humping.” Sounds more appetizing.
So appetizers are devoured sometimes even without recognition of content, simply to pass the time while the waitress fails to bring our food because, unknown to us, she went on break and was really interested in this one particular cigarette.
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