There is a sound a person makes when they eat with their mouth open and it is the sound of a boot coming out of mud.
Wet. Rhythmic. Unnecessary.
Somewhere in that person's life there was a window where somebody should have said something, and nobody did, and now they are forty years old eating a sandwich in an open office while eleven people have a silent nervous breakdown.
It is a solved problem
Close your fucking mouth.
That is it. That is the entire fix. No equipment. No training. No gradual behavioral program. Your lips already work. You use them to speak. Bring them together while food is inside and the noise stops.
Nobody is asking you to eat less, eat differently, or eat somewhere else. Close the front of your face while chewing. That is the whole ask and it has never once been met.
The gum people
Different category. Worse crime.
Gum has no nutritional purpose. There is no biological need being served. It is a piece of rubber a person elected to put in their mouth, for fun, and now everyone within four desks is listening to it get worked.
Snapping. Popping. That clicking thing against the teeth.
You chose this. You went to a store. You paid money. You brought this into a shared room on purpose.
The soup thing
The slurp. The full volume intake.
I have heard the cultural argument. In some places it is polite, it signals appreciation. That is real and I am not going to pretend it is not.
I am talking about the guy at the Panera. He is not honoring a tradition. He is eating a bread bowl like a shop vac.
Why nobody says anything
Because saying something is worse than hearing it.
"Hey, could you chew a little quieter" is one of the most humiliating sentences a human being can be handed, and everyone at the table knows it, so instead the entire room absorbs it. Every day. Forever.
Which means the chewer never finds out. They go their whole life producing a sound that clears rooms, and everyone around them quietly starts eating lunch at their desk instead.
What it actually is
It is the same disease as the slow walker and the live laugh love sign on the wall. It is the total non-arrival of the thought that other people are present and can perceive you.
You are not alone. There has never been a single moment in your adult life when you were alone in a room with a bag of chips and forty coworkers.
How to survive one
- Match them. Same volume. Same rhythm. Sit directly across from them and mirror it exactly. Most people cannot identify the source and will simply become uncomfortable and leave.
- Stop eating and watch. Put your fork down. Fold your hands. Look at their mouth. Say nothing. Wait.
- Offer a napkin. They do not need a napkin. Offer it anyway. Sincerely. Repeatedly.
- Say "sorry, what?" every single time they talk while chewing. Every time. Make them repeat it. They will start swallowing first inside of a week and will never know why.
- Eat something louder. Kettle chips. An apple. Go to war. Somebody in that room is going to say something to somebody and it will not be about you.
Frequently asked questions
Is misophonia real?
Yes. This is not about that.
What is it about then?
Manners. Somebody never taught him and now he's forty-three.
So it's his mother's fault?
Partly. She had eighteen years and one job.
Should I say something?
No. Have more fun.
So what do I do?
Pick a number between one and five.
Isn't this a small thing?
It is the smallest thing. It is also every single day.
What if I am the chewer?
You are not. Nobody thinks they are. That is the entire problem.
A note on safety
None of this is advice. Number five has gone to HR twice. We sell merch. We are not qualified to tell you how to handle your coworker, your father-in-law, or the man at the next table at Applebee's who has been at it since you sat down. Do what you want. You were going to.
