This was inspired by a conversation about Aziz Ansari, as you can likely guess.

Imagine if I made you a sandwich. I was being very nice to make you a sandwich! But you’re full, or allergic to what I made, or you don’t like wheat bread, or whatever. And I WANT you to eat this sandwich. I made it! I like you! Food is good for you! Eat the sandwich, pal! You say “oh, I had lunch already,” or “that’s so kind, I’m not hungry now, but thank you,” or “well, why don’t we get some ice cream together, instead of eating this sandwich” or “hm, thanks, why don’t you leave that on the table, maybe I’ll want it later.” None of those are “no, I do not want that sandwhich, don’t give it to me,” but clearly, I should understand that you don’t want the sandwich, and you’re being polite, right? Now imagine if I followed you around you house, holding the sandwich out to you at every turn. I keep placing it in your hand. I hold it to your mouth. I tell you over and over how nice of a sandwich it is. I keep offering you the sandwich. I place it on a plate and put it in front of you every time you sit down. And I’m a weirdo now, in your house, shoving food in your face. Sure, you could yell at me to get out of your house, but can you see how I am the one at fault for making this a bad situation, and not you for not yelling at me? This is my fault, for never asking “Would you like this sandwich?” I will make it for you, only if you want it.

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