What were to be the salad days

We stand in line at the salad counter, eschewing the tastier more appealing options available in this café(teria) to chew the leafy greens and assorted vegetables meant to add flavor and variety to plants that should never have been removed from the ground.  But something seems off when you compare those in the 'healthy choice' line to those in the other lines here.  Surely most or at the very least one of us should possess the lean figure and trim physique you would associate with a healthy lifestyle.  But we do not seem to fit that model.  The fronts of our shirts hang a little too far past our belt buckles, and our back pockets, though empty, appear to be pushed out to their limits. 

These salads are not the 'healthy choices' of life long fitness aficionados, those body types seem to be enjoying the Indian food, skipping lunch to get in an early afternoon run, or are in their offices satisfying what hunger they may have with a protein bar in preparation for their nightly triathlon. 

No, we are clearly the remedial students, forced to choose between purchasing a new wardrobe of more generous proportions or sacrificing our beloved burritos and pizza.  A sacrifice we are promised will be rewarded sometime down the waistline. 

This line moves incredibly slowly.  Though our bulk evidences that we are no strangers to the choosing and consuming of food, this particular process seems agonizing.  The choice between the tastier of many bland plants seems an impossible one.  Finally you grip the tongs and fill your plate with the odorless foliage.  At the register, you place your salad on the scales, and the meter does you the courtesy of displaying the weight of your meal as opposed to your own.  The others in line with burgers, fries, and desserts offer you sympathetic glances and you can almost hear their silent prayers that they never find themselves among your number.