Write about 200 words about having lunch in a public setting. Begin by establishing the setting (and avoid the dreaded "curse" of the topic sentence). Include some dialogue and try to be humourous if you can. Remember to "name names" by identifying real world objects: think of Connie's "Lock Lock" cup. Mentioning a specific cup is better than just an ordinary cup.
Have fun!
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The sink at the entrance holds its usual contents--dirty spoons, rice-flecked forks, cups half filled with dirty, soapy water. Usually, the microwave is already buzzing away and, often, something Asian and fishy smelling has already begun to fill the air.
At the end of the room,beside the fridge, is a round table. Here, the teachers sit, eating. Or, sit, waiting for a turn at the microwave.
“Hey L,” I say, “You’ve got the best lunches ever!”
“It’s only leftovers,” he replies with a smile. In his glass pyrex dish (we all use glass now as we’re afraid of plastic), he has steaming tiger prawns on a bed of rice with tofu at the side.
I look down at my cream cheese and red pepper bagel and sigh. Leftovers? If only I could dream of such leftovers!
Then, L pulls out another glass bowl filled with lychees or pineapple or ya pears. Luckily for me, he likes to share his fruit bowl with others.
I get up, already finished my pathetic sandwich, and console myself by cleaning up the contents of that dirty sink. To have such “leftovers” I’m really going to have to start cooking more interesting dinners!
This is writing about lunch in a public setting, i hope you like it:
The smell of fried rice, kimchi, egg roll, and seaweed soup always filled the air of our classroom, and even to hallway, it was a lunch time~~
“Hey, move your head to see hers!” as she walked towards to our desks. Everyone is busy unlocking their lunch boxes’ latches, but not her. She always “attacked” a well-prepared lunches among other girls, and it was always my turn.
Other girls hated that,including me; when a brave girl asked her why, and all she said was, “That’s a fun of lunchtime, and besides you possibly can’t eat all that, and if you go home with so much leftovers, your mom won’t be happy~” with open mouthed—full of foods inside, and dripping the food.
One day, we decided to teach her a lesson that she will never forget. As always, she moved her seat with her chopsticks, and moving towards us. We all know the plan. The plan was that I put a sour cream to my egg roll, and she ran off. I put the sourest cream to my egg roll, and waited her to bite. It was like waiting a lion to trap, and it almost worked. When she was about to bite, someone called her name, and put the egg roll to my fried rice. While I was talking to my friends, I ate the egg roll!!
Words:227.
It was my first lunch with only thirty minutes in the school. I hastily took my lunch-box out of the classroom to the corridor—lunch room. There are some tables and chairs against wall. Two microwave-ovens were on the table . I put my lunch-box at the end of queue beside one microwave , as several boxes were ahead of mine.
While I was waiting, I admired that the school was thoughtful to make students convincingly heating food. Suddenly, I found the light from the microwave went out, the sound of humming and the spinning of the lunch-box inside stopped at the same time. “What happen?” I asked. Someone said, “ the power broke down.” After the teacher had fixed it, she suggested us not to use two microwaves at the same time, otherwise the problem would happen again. The students who were waiting heated food began to watch each other’s microwave-oven , and the voices of saying “this finished, that start” rose and down in order.
The food smell had filled the air. Students were having lunch nearby. I sniffed and watched, my stomach couldn’t help rumbling with hunger. My patience would be spoilt. I looked at my watch with a slight fretfulness. Only eight minutes left, it was my turn. But I had to renounce my lunch. Because I didn’t want to make a ridiculous sight that I were wolfing my food down outside of my classroom’s door to irritate my classmates with the food smell and spoil the learning atmosphere.
Brad, this piece of example is so far one of the best you gave us.
It's really funny.
It makes me admire L's "leftover" too.
Good work!
“Ding! Ding! Ding…” The bell rang in the hallway for closing the last class in the morning, followed by the raindrop-like clop-clops and hullabaloos. Two boys sneaked out from the back door of the classroom with their lunch boxes. Dumpling! —Lily suddenly realized today the dining hall would offer dumpling with limited quantity, actually it was never enough for those growing stomachs. Lily looked at her teacher who obviously had no intention to finish his nonsense yet, hold her lunch container in hands and prepared to run.
Ten minutes later Lily put herself in the queue of the dumpling window. The dining hall was big with more than twenty windows offering different courses. The smell of food and stale oil were suffused in the air. The boys who left the class earlier were sitting around the table and enjoying their dumplings. They waved to Lily and yelled, “Good luck!”
When Lily’s turn was about to come, she saw there was still many dumplings and relaxed a little. “Fifty dumplings, please,” the skinny boy standing in front of Lily ordered and took out a huge steel container-- big enough to feed three pigs. What? Lily couldn’t believe those big, fat and lovely dumplings just disappeared in front of her eyes.
“Damn it!” Lily muttered and merged into the fried-egg-with-tomato-queue and swore to leave the class earlier on next Wednesday.
We, office girls, always had our lunch made from home. Someone, such as the four guys next door, didn`t. Recently, they had hidden some stuffs in their office and stewed something secretly.
It is lunch time, a rancid odor of salty fish flew over the hall, making us to mouth water. Each of us held a lunch box and knocked on the neighbour`s door.
Inside, a strong sour smell mixed a rice-fragrant filled whole room. A slow-cooker, stewing salty-fish and pickles, was puffing on the coffee table. Soy-fried pork ear strips in a dish were at the side. The four guys enjoyed their lunch time around the coffee table, drinking beers, joking and laughing.
The girls, swarming into the room, found their seats beside them, chirping like birds, picking up the ear strips certainly. Ear strips went out quickly. One of the guys asked casually, “It is said there are always shits in the pork ears. Do you guys taste any?”
The girls froze suddenly. One girl made a sharp scream, threw far away the half strip on her chopsticks, and turned over the slow-cooker carelessly. The whole room became in a terrible snarl.
-195 words
As soon as the teacher said the class was over, all students rushed out of the classroom headed to the dining room in the campus. It was twelve o'clock, and everybody was hungry. The more important thing was if you were too late, there was no food left.
We came into the dining room and chose a table near the window. Four of us sat and talked about the food provided today.
“Look at that,” I said, pointing menu board. , “there is pork ribs soup.”
“Oh, I like this soup they made,” Ruth said, “But, they gave too much liquid with few ribs.”
Yes, Ruth was right. We noticed many bowls held by students who passed in front of our table were filled with much liquid and just few ribs.
“I got idea,” Cindy said with smile. Then she got up, took her plate and went to the counter.
Three of us looked at her quietly, and we knew she could do something surprised us.
After a while, she came back with Lots of ribs piled up and a little liquid in her plate.
All understood. That was a good idea using plate to buy soup. One by one, each of us copied her. Everybody had a wonderful lunch that day, but after that day, the counter has never provided the pork ribs soup anymore.
Finally, it was twelve o’clock, and I just conformed with the customer service person about my lunch break before any customer stopped me.
I was running to lunch room. The aroma of food was coming on the hallway to lunchroom. I started recognizing the smell of tomato soup, smoky fish, Indian curry Coffey.
I entered the lunch room. The noise of chatting, laughing, and bugging microwave is killing me. As always, the sink was full of dirty dishes, and dishwasher was open. Everyone was taking dishes straight from the dishwasher.
All my co-workers were busy: reading paper, playing computer, and chatting. Oh, Sarah was busy fixing her lipstick, and Eva was flossing her teeth.
I started muttering, “Whose mother will be here to clean everything?” I took my food to the corner, sitting I started gulping my vegetarian rice. I heared my name. Yes, someone paged for me. It made me really upset. I phoned customer service, and asked, “Who doesn’t know about my break?”
If i do not eat properly, I can not do proper job!
In the dullish corridor of the school, some adult students sat in front of the tables along the wall and ate their lunch, chatting, laughing, and waiting for the next class.
At the end of the hallway, a group of green broadleaf plants on the table tried hard to produce more fresh oxygen, wishing to blow away the stale humid air mixed with smell of beef instant noodle and other unnamable food, but failed.
“Have you heard of that her husband was arrested?” one lady with red and black hair talked in a whisper with another lady.
“Really, why?”
“Because of the milk scandal! He was the chairman of that milk company. Hundreds of thousands of children were poisoned and four of them were died!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! But do you think he should be arrested? He might not know everything.”
“Of course he knew it!”
“Can you prove that?”
“Sure! You know what? Their milk products that were exported to other countries are clean and safe!”
“What a shame! I can’t believed that!” the other lady shouted.
“Shush…she’s coming!”
It was time to go into the classroom.
-189 words
I hate to eat pork; however, when I was a university student, the canteen used to have pork only on their menu. One day, when I knew that we had no choice but boiled vegetable with pork only, I lost my appetite totally.
“I hate pork,” I grumbled, when it was my turn.
“Vegetable only, please.” I told the staff, a beautiful lady.
“Here you are,” the lady handed me a full dish of vegetable with two fried eggs. I looked at her with a bit surprise and confused. It seemed that only I got eggs in the whole canteen.
“You used to mention many times that you don’t like to eat pork, I remember it.” The lady said with a charming smile.
“That’s a lot.” When I turned away, my heart was filled with gratitude.
“I want fried eggs too.” That was Linda, my classmate, who just was after me.
“No fried eggs provide, miss.”
“Why he got?”
“Eh, he…is a Muslim.”
“What? Come on, I knows him very well. If he were a Muslim, I would be a pig.” Linda shouted with a sarcastic tune.
I flushed to the ears and run away.
197 words
The Working Lunch
It still keeps a good memory in my mind of the working lunch in the past. The scenes are vivid and sweet. It was such a happy time we had.
The canteen is spacious and bright. It is tidy and quiet, only lightly chattering like soughing of the wind in the pines. The lunch is free and very like a self-service. The foods are colourful and attractive.
But the most we appreciate was this valuable time. After four hours working in his/her own office room, we all appreciated this great time to lunch together. We were all free—free partnering and free talking like the birds flock together. It was the happy hour.
If your partner was a lady, you probably would talk about the know-how of cooking. “Can I make this fish in Sichuan style at home?” “Of course, it’s easy! Put the scalded green vegetables and the yellow bean sprouts on the bottom, scalding the fish, and making the hot red pepper oil and spread on the fish. That’s all.” Her show-off appearance showed she is an excellent house-keeper.” She liked doing this very much–maybe tomorrow she would bring some small side-dishes to you.
Many years past, this writing12’s essay “Lunching” reminds me of those good memories.
Words: 210
For a long time, I have been bothered by my lunch until I met Tom, my summer school classmate. I am not good at cooking, so does Tom. We often were bored by what to eat at lunch. Tom told me there was a KFC near the school, and a special Toonie meal-two pieces chicken and a fries was available on Tuesdays.
On Tuesday noon, “Hurry, hurry up! It is Toonie Day!”Tom muttered in the class. After two hours study, both of us were as hungry as a horse. We packed our bags hastily, rushing out of class room, and darted into the street. Across the large green pot, we could descry the obvious KFC sign. Through its translucent glass window, we recognized that the KFC was not as crowded as it was supposed to be. We are relaxed to slow down our pace.
Tom suggested we could have our delicious lunch on grass land. We both imaged an amazing picnic was waiting for us.
When we tried to open the locked door, there was a note on the door. We couldn’t believe our eyes but it was true. “We have moved.”
The delicious smell of all kinds of foods filled the noisy lounge room at noon as usual. Sushi, veggie pizzas, a bowl of salad, a McDonald bag of burgers and a see through lunch bowl of yogurt with fresh strawberries were in a row on one of the two long gray tables. I took out my corn flakes, poured a bottle of milk on it, and found a seat next to the yogurt with strawberries bowl.
“Are those corn flakes?” Lisa asked me.
“Yeah,” I answered, as I covered my full mouth with my left hand.
“You’re kidding right?” Diana interfered, rising her eyebrow. “
“For goodness sake this is lunch time, Makas, not breakfast!”
“You’re now sounding like a mother who wants her child to eat something healthy,” I teased.
“Just look at Ellen! She always gets yogurt with strawberries and a ham sandwich, but yours is always chips, a whole bunch of junk food”
“Well, I don’t make my own lunch,” Ellen said, smiling.
My husband makes them for me fearing that I might start eating junk food because I would be lazy to make them myself.”
“You see. There’s a difference then, Lisa. She’s married but I’m not. There’s nobody to do something like that for me. Get it?”
“Whatever,” she said as she stood up and walked toward the vending machine.
“Now what do you think you’re getting? I asked. You were just scolding like a mom and now you are getting a Lay’s and a coke. Corn flakes might not be the right food for lunch, but it’s way healthier than what you’re about to eat.”
very funny story, steed~~^^*
We found three stairs to seat on. After praying for lunch, everybody, including teachers and students of the Christian Happiness Centre spread in the small groups of their near friends in order to eat lunch together. My companion, the niece of my best friend, and me sat near each other on those stairs surrounded by carnation and rose flowers, under an ancient walnut three with its young green fruits. It was the midsummer. The mild weather with beautiful sunshine amazed our lunch scene.
“What are you eating for lunch?!” My companion, Adorina, suspiciously looked at my lunch bag. I replied amusingly, “a cold chicken breast sandwich with salty pickles and sliced tomato...and a yellow apple!”
“Just that?” she puzzled, “no pops?”
“I will drink water if I want. I am under diet.”
She shook her beautiful head understandingly, and opened her pink lunch box, and picked a Swiss golden chocolate bar.
“It’ll cut your appetite.”
She clearly enjoyed from the melted pure chocolate in her mouth for seconds. Then, she answered me with her brownie mouth, “I’ll go through them later.”
Another chew of the chocolate waved the smell of it in the air. I ate my cold tasteless sandwich when I was sniffing the heavenly smell dancing around me. I was dying for her chocolate. Adorina with her chubby hands and a puffy smile showed me inside of her lunch box.
“A sandwich of handmade wild boar salami,” she pointed at my sandwich and continued, “a cold chicken breast sandwich.”
My eyes went on with the fresh smell of a large sweet banana, a juicy green apple – I am dying for green apple – a small Cheetos, and graciously taste of a sliced homemade chocolate cake with cinnamon and date and walnut. Her list was going on with a Sprite pop and a bottle of the spring water full of minerals.
She smiled cunningly, “I have to diet too!”- and she was just five years old.
Lunch in the Office I have worked before at LVR airport.
In the sealed boxes of office buildings at YVR airport, one of those boxes is called lunch room. People breathe through the ventilate fan on the ceiling. Every morning, a middle aged woman, who never eats lunch, stands up fiercely, rushing into the lunch room, unplugging the kettle since the noise of it is driving her nerve to the breaking point. “Who made the boiling water!?” She shouted, and I stood up and run to the room to get my hot water. All the rest of offices are drinking a kind of black liquid from a machine called coffee maker.
What a relief, it is lunch time again. I sat down on a tiny table in the middle of the room. As usual, I brought a bed of rice with chicken, fish and vegetable. “Wow, this looks delicious!” office manager popped his head in and stared excitedly at my lunch box. It turned out that his lunch is always two pieces of bread with some weird stuff in between. Department manager stepped in with his regular canned soup and microwave spaghetti. He explained “my wife always gets this from Superstore, and it is only one dollar each.” A gigantic girl stepped in with a big smile on her face; her lunch was giant size Coca Cola and chips from KFC. “Hi, everyone” Cindy was the last one squeezing into the box; she opened a bag of raw vegetables and started to chew on them.
I never know snow pea and broccoli could be eaten raw. Certainly, people got no time to cook.
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