For the past few weeks, Holly's been living and working at our place upstate while I've been operating out of our Brooklyn pad. I just started work on a new show, and Holly's juggling her writing assignments and prepping our 100-year-old house for the winter. She comes down and visits on weekends, but on weekdays, I’m flying solo. We've been doing this sort of thing on and off for years, but recently, I've noticed something about myself. Without a witness, I devolve into pigdom in less than 24 hours.
Now, I'm not talking personal hygiene -- the basics (like brushing and deodorizing) remain covered. I'm talking about food. As soon as Holly gets in the car and heads north, a funny thing happens: Crackers and cheese are replaced by entire bags of chips, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups become staples to buy in bulk and refrigerate, and Ben and Jerry's, consumed in the glow of the iMac, becomes a standard 1 a.m. ritual. I'll admit, it's pretty disgusting. I've never been a shooting-Cheez-Whiz-directly-into-my-mouth kind of guy, but this is my equivalent.
What's weird about this whole transformation is that Holly doesn't monitor what I eat when we're together. I just tend to make more responsible food choices when we are sleeping under the same roof. Does this make me a nutritional poseur? On the scale of secret-stuff-guys-do-when-no-one's-looking, I'm thinking that this rates in the neighborhood of "spends too long styling hair" or "sings songs to the dog." Guilty and guilty (in case you were wondering). Is this just me or do other guys do this too?