Plastic Knives and Forks

Recently, while on a trip to visit my sister in hospital, it came time for a bite to eat. It had been a long day, and the gurgles that I assumed were the vibrations of the many apparatuses in her room, embarrassingly turned out to be my own tummy, telling me that it was time to replenish the tanks. So, off I went in search of something yummy.

Have you ever arrived at that point of the day, where you know you’re hungry, but you’re too tired or lazy to do anything about it? The rumble in your lower regions begin to reverberate tunes and rhythms so loudly, that people you’ve never met in the seats opposite you, are tapping their toes to the beat. Ok, let’s eat!

There was no line up at the canteen, and the lovely person behind the counter smiled and merrily asked me, “What can I get you dear?”

“May I have a spinach and fetta, filo please? Oh, and a water,” was my hungry reply.

“Coming right up!”

It wasn’t long before my filo was all heated in a plastic container, and in my hands, along with the mandatory, plastic knife and fork, and napkin. I found a seat on the comfy chairs, spread out my lunch, got a book prepared to read on my phone, opened my bottle of water, opened the container with the filo, took in the aroma of canteen cuisine, picked up my plastic utensils, and tucked in. I was so looking forward to my treat.

Have you ever had those moments when you’re sure someone was watching you and laughing? I have. During the very first attempt at piercing my filo with my fork, and attempting to slice off a generous portion of pastry and filling, my plastic knife and fork became spaghetti in my hands.

The fork performed first: all four prongs squished off in a different direction, they didn’t break off, they just bent off in different directions, becoming more exaggerated the harder I pushed into the filo. The knife performed next: it bent left, then it bent right, then it bent up, then it bent down. Even my filo looked as though it were laughing at me!

On my second attempt, both utensils literally became spaghetti in my hands and contortioned into un-useable implements of destruction. I turned the filo over so the soft bottom would be more easily penetrated, but the show continued. As if they had minds of their own, my plastic knife and fork bent every which way and that, and refused to cut my pastry. So, like all good hungry men, I put down my cutlery, and picked up the filo, and ate it by hand.

Besides the fact that every security camera had somehow turned towards me, and the sound of laughter, and the chants of, “got another one!” were streaming from the canteen, I couldn’t help wonder what the life hack lesson would be should I write it into this fortnight’s Chatbox. And then it dawned on me:

If you want to eat your filo in comfort, make sure you use good utensils. If you want to eat anything requiring knives and forks, make sure they’re good ones, or at least, ones that work. Sure, I used my fingers in the end, but the filo was hot, and I got grease all over me, and the pastry flaked and floated everywhere.

Good utensils or good tools, would have been the ticket. I guess, if we need to chop down a tree, we wouldn’t use a plastic axe. If we need to get a job done, good tools help. And, if you already have the right tools, like so many already do in this thing called life, make sure they’re sharp and ready to do what they’re supposed to do.

Are there things in your life that just ain't working for you anymore, and maybe need an update perhaps? Or maybe some things just need to be sharpened? Worth thinking about!

Especially if you’re hungry, and a silly plastic knife and fork, “just won’t cut it!”

Please use the following link to express your interest in this program

https://survey.qed.qld.gov.au/n/b66hMk8