God Bless the Cheeseburger

Our company cafeteria likes to throw surprise theme lunches once in a while, and today happened to be American day. As I walked into the canteen with a colleague, I stopped short at the sight of an American flag hanging just inside the door. In France, hanging a national flag is just short of fascism, and my lunch companion watched uncomfortably while I gave the flag a mock salute.

"It's not the 4th of July yet, is it?" he asked.

The rest of the canteen was decorated with cowboy hats, motorcycle models, and more flags. The cooks were cheerfully serving up barbecued ribs, chicken wings, and cheeseburgers, naturally. As I stood in the middle of the room and took it all in, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I felt as if my identity had been exposed by making a novelty of my country's cuisine.

I decided it wouldn't be very sporting of me to go for my usual salad on American lunch day, so I carried my tray to one of the counters. The cook lit up when he saw me, and said,

"We made this lunch just for you!"

The other people in line - who I didn't know - turned to stare at me. Yes, I am the American, and yes, we eat like this. I smiled and tried to look absolutely delighted to be reunited with cheeseburgers. He dug through the pile of ribs to find me the biggest chunk, dropped a dollop of BBQ sauce on it, and handed it over proudly.

Being as I work in a male-dominated engineering environment, I am used to being stared at in the cafeteria. But today I felt everyone's eyes on me, identifying me with their food. I rushed to my team's table and sat down quickly, then surveyed my colleagues' plates. Two had vegetarian plates, and the third had uncharacteristically taken a salad. They were clearly not impressed with the cowboy menu.

I did a quick glance around to see if I could spot any Frenchies eating hamburgers with forks and knives. I was disappointed to see that the only hamburger eaters in the vicinity were two upper managers, both holding their burgers with two hands.

I ate my ribs delicately with a knife and fork. And admittedly, they were pretty good. But fortunately, no one asked if I liked it, or if I missed food like this, which obviously would have been a trap. So I'll just keep it to myself that I enjoyed American lunch day, and I plan on enjoying the hamburgers that I intend to make for the real 4th of July next weekend.