SHORT STORIES: ‘Eatright’

Pat rolled over as his alarm began to jibe him awake. His eyes fell on the yellow glow, and the source of the sound. As soon as he had moved his head, he was in deep agony. His face was looking in one direction but it was as if his brain, his fluids, couldn’t cope with Pat’s first movement in eight hours, from where he had passed out the night before. Pat tried to move back into the position that had been so peaceful, but it only aggravated his condition. Searing and throbbing, his head gave him one reminder of the night before: white spirits with his friend, Luke.

Lifting his heavy arm Pat managed to knock the alarm off, and he managed to pull himself upright. 5.30am, well no one else would start his day, no one else would complete his pre-work schedule or help him reinvigorate his body for the day ahead. Well maybe something would, he remembered. He swiped his phone screen and up came a message:
Hello Pat, I hope you enjoyed ‘18.30 Luke Pub’. May I suggest a detox juice: 2 sticks of celery, ½ cucumber, 100g spinach, 1.5cm ginger, 1 apple, ½ lemon. This will help you start your day alongside your usual breakfast, before ‘Gym 6.30-7.30. Pyramid workout, exercise bike’.

Usual breakfast? He clicked on usual breakfast. Oh yes, in his haze he’d forgotten that he’d set his breakfast to be the same every weekday. The new app had approved: the nutritional balance was good, and it provided him with enough energy to last until lunchtime. But it was correct in saying that last night warranted a detox juice. Before climbing out of bed he hit the green tick. An orange appeared and did a dance; his juice was on its way. Cheesy graphics, Pat thought, but linked to his fridge-come-juicer downstairs it was a godsend on mornings like this.

‘Pat!’
‘Oh hi, Damien.’ Pat was just strapping his cycling shoes on, getting ready to leave the gym. He’d shower at work. It was back on the bike now, but first- he realised- he would have to speak to Damien.
‘Cycling in?’
‘Sure am.’
Damien also cycled to work- much like the whole office- and they left heading towards the racks outside, leaving the faint smell of chlorine behind.
‘Surprised to see you cycling, or even pre-working what with last night Pat.’
‘Gotta do, what you gotta do.’
Damien laughed.
‘What did Eatright suggest? Detox Juice?’
‘Yeah that’s right. How did you know?’
‘Always has done for me when it’s seen in my phone calendar that I had drinks planned the night before, and that I checked my phone after midnight.’
‘It’s pretty clever, the juice was ready when I got downstairs. It’s amazing.’
‘I knew you’d like it. It’s changed everything, not just pre-work. Although it really helps.’

They both clipped in and rolled off towards the office, feeling fresh and satiated. Lunch was out today so Eatright hadn’t flashed up with anything else since breakfast, and it probably wouldn’t kick in until later in the afternoon. But just before walking into the office and in between scanning his emails, Pat checked: no nothing to eat yet, still feeling pretty full and that juice sorted me out. Back in the pocket, around to his desk and on with the day, energy to keep him going, and his phone keeping vigilant to any changes he made to his schedule.

It had only been a few weeks since Pat had downloaded Eatright. Damien, who Pat hadn’t seen much of at all until their morning run in, had suggested it as soon as he found out Pat had bought the same Wi-Fi Fridge he had got a month or so before. Linked into his phone calendar, which in turn was linked to his home computer and his work computer, Eatright told you what to eat and when. Pat, on top of how impressed he usually was with the app, was particularly impressed when Eatright had suggested a snack before heading to Le Cochon, a restaurant renowned for its small portions.

It had helped Pat keep on top of eating, and had eliminated another worry from his day. He’d found even in two weeks he wasn’t worrying so much about food and could get on with the tasks at hand. Apart from juices, he had to complete the cooking or making himself, but with the pressure of deciding gone Pat was happier, fulfilled and filled.

Synched with his weekly shop, if he decided to take matters into his own hands and not just go by the preferences he’d plugged into Eatright, a whole week’s worth of meals was set out. Suggestions were made for additions, changes, and cuisines Pat hadn’t eaten in a while. Some dishes Pat had always thought of making, but never had. One meal at a time Eatright was changing Pat’s life and Pat loved it.

‘It’s fucking great Luke, it’s fucking great.’
‘I just- just- don’t get it, Pat.’
‘Everything I eat, everything, is decided for me. I don’t think.’
‘You don’t think?’
‘No, no. I mean, I don’t think you get it.’
‘No I don’t.’
‘Ok, what did you have for dinner?’
‘Nothing. I came straight here to meet you.’
‘Well-’
‘What did you have?’
‘Well nothing I came straight here too.’
‘So?’
‘So. So Eatright knows that.’
‘OK.’
‘Which is great.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it will tell me what to eat, Luke.’

Pat pulled out his phone, 10.51 and lunch in two hours. Nothing to eat as such from Eatright, but it suggested a Banana. Patrick had set the app to include a lot of fruit. Something he’d always neglected was a decent intake of fruit, and he knew Eatright could help. Damien had told Pat that his diet had dramatically improved, and so had the consistency of his stools. Pat’s diet was never bad, nor were his bowels, but Pat secretly couldn’t wait to feel even healthier. In fact he did already, something Luke wouldn’t have understood. At least, Luke wouldn’t have understood how beneficial Eatright had been in the process.

Pat’s calorie intake had been spot on everyday since he downloaded Eatright, and this Thursday was looking to be the same. Lunch was an issue however, as the café Pat had suggested was closed when they got there. He was left standing in the street with two of his fellow workers, Kathy and Dylan, and a client, discussing where they should go.

‘I mean I do feel we’re celebrating today.’ Kathy said, a smile coming onto her face.
‘Yes I guess we are.’ The client responded to Kathy, also breaking into a smile.
‘Hey, why don’t we check out Dirty Beef? It’s only round the corner and the burgers are supposed to be amazing.’ Dylan had a knack of swaying those around him, but the thought of a burger put Pat on edge. His phone was dead, and substituting the vegan café for a high protein, calorific meal, would throw Eatright off for the day. Pat knew that Eatright would have changed his breakfast, or altered the dinner plans it had made, if it had known that lunch would be at Dirty Beef- an eatery that had spurred constant murmurs of comte and lardon covered fries in Pat’s open plan, slide ridden, tech start up office.

‘Sounds like a great idea.’ The client had chirped up. Pat looked over with venom at the client who was about to ruin his schedule. He was in need of Eatright, thought Pat.
‘Pat? What say you?’ The others had already begun to move in the direction of Dirty Beef.
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘No I don’t think we should. The fries, they have this lardon and-’
‘Pat’s right,’ Kathy interrupted, ‘the fries really aren’t that amazing when you get rid of the lardons and cheese. Why not Aunt Patty’s?’
‘Oh yes they are good there, the patty’s really are exceptional.’ Client, again.
‘I know, apparently the cows are fed on beer and the meat is minced at the restaurant. It’s kept rare too.’
‘They have that funny bit on the menu about serving it rare… What is it again?’
‘Why do we have to get a burger?’ Pat was growing exasperated.
‘Well they do mac’n’cheese.’
‘No I mean-’
‘The mac’n’cheese at Burger Renaissance is incredible.’
‘Burger Renaissance?’
‘That’s too far to go.’
‘Well, I hate to keep saying it but we are-’
‘Do they have chargers? Can I charge my phone there?’
‘You’ll be fine Pat.’
‘No I won’t. You’re fucking screwing my schedule.’
Dylan pulled Pat aside, and Kathy laughed guiding the client along towards Dirty Beef.
‘What are you doing, Pat? What’s got into you?’
‘We were supposed to be having vegan noodles for lunch, and now you want red meat in light, glazed brioche.’
‘So?’
‘It’s screwing with my schedule.’
‘What schedule, I don’t understand.’
‘My Eatright schedule.’

Dylan looked surprised. He had heard of Eatright, but didn’t think anyone used it. A tech folly, a spit ball idea, not something that people actually used. In actual fact at this thought he began to feel envious of Eatright. Why hadn’t he come up with it, why was he designing an app for TV recording, for Christ’s sake?

‘You use that?’
‘The vegan café we were going to go to is Eatright registered. Eatright would have fitted the meal into my daily intake. Why the fuck does everyone always want a fucking burger, Dylan? Why do they want a hot sandwich with potatoes?’
Dylan stood fully upright, taking his hand off Pat’s arm and refusing to engage. He didn’t have the answers to Pat’s questions. ‘No offence, Pat. But lunch today isn’t really about that.’
‘Yes, but-’
‘Ok?’
‘Dylan-’
‘Come on!’

The fries had been good whatever Kathy’s objections had been, and the customers were what you would expect. Pat was exactly like them, but being forced to eat cheese had made him hate everyone in Dirty Beef. He would, he knew, go back, and soon at that. Luke would like it, and with enough scheduling it could work. On top of the drinks last night and the unplanned lunch Pat felt sick at the thought of getting home and having to tell Eatright, even if Lunch had helped with his head more than the juice had- a fact Pat would have to be pushed to admit. Lunch had turned into a whole afternoon when Dylan had suggested they move on to a retro games arcade- we have the same games in the office, right?- and consequently Pat had been unable to charge his phone. Now cycling home fast, and taking a longer route to shed the unplanned carbs and calories, Pat felt nauseous. How could he trick Eatright, how could he undo the lunch he had had? A longer pre-work session tomorrow, and disobeying Eatright dinner would do it. But that would throw scheduling off, and it would throw the fridge stock out.

He dived into a supermarket picking up some green-labelled food, a bottle of water and laxatives. He ripped off the layers of packaging when he got outside and scoffed the cucumber linguine and pomegranate salad into his mouth. He had second thoughts about the laxatives, and threw them in a bin, before turning round and getting them out. They might be useful to flush my system later, he thought. Why had he not charged his phone? What was he going to do? Would he still eat dinner? Could he not eat dinner? Two days in a row wasn’t good, but surely Eatright would balance his diet out? More oats than normal tomorrow morning, like it suggested today. But why even tell Eatright, why not lie? But then his health, his body would be off. The work of the last two weeks would be gone. His aspirations would be on a downward spiral even if he upped pre-work.

Damien’s voice spun around Pat’s head, as he found himself standing staring into middle distance, bike shoes scraping on concrete and people pushing past him. I knew you’d like it. It’s changed everything.

Pat’s eyes filled with tears, as he looked at the empty plastic box in his mittened hand, pomegranate seeds still stuck to the side. Pat wondered what he was doing, and realised that was the first time he’d thought that since buying his fridge. No battery, no order. Chaos. He got onto his bike and started to pedal home.