For the Table

You say it early, before anyone else can. “Let’s just get nachos for the table.” It sounds casual, generous, like you’re solving a problem before it exists. No one pushes back. A few nods, maybe someone adds something else, but the nachos are already decided.

That part matters.

Because it isn’t for the table.

It’s for you.

Not in a way anyone could call out. You’re not planning to take all of it. You just want access without having to justify it. Ordering your own nachos is a statement. Ordering for the table is neutral.

When they arrive, you don’t rush. You let everyone settle in, let a few chips go, let it feel shared. Then you start paying attention. Where the good sections are, which parts haven’t been touched, how the plate is shifting as people eat. You move through it carefully, taking from different areas, never the same spot twice, never enough at once to stand out.

It becomes a quiet system.

No one says anything. Everyone sees the same plate, but no one wants to define what’s happening. As long as it stays within a certain range, it remains unspoken.

By the time it’s almost gone, you’ve had exactly what you wanted. Not all of it, just enough to justify the decision you already made before anyone else had a chance to.

And if anyone noticed, it doesn’t matter.

You didn’t order nachos for yourself. You ordered them for the table.