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Eating the last one.

Nobody wants to eat the final donut at the office, the roll at the restaraunt, or the last mini-quiche on a platter. Perhaps somebody else wants it more than they do. Perhaps it would look piggish to take that last bit. So it sits there, all alone until somebody less socially graceful grabs it and devours it. That person is me.

Somebody has to do it. So there’s one scrap left, no more food will show up. I eat the last donut. I feel pretty good about this. The entire world sets aside that final portion, like some sort of ritual offering. To me.

I am with you on that one. In addition, I will happily be that first guy to go through the buffet line when everyone else sits around pretending to be polite.

Source: squashed