I was sitting at an upscale Old Town restaurant with my current project manager and my former project manager. We were waiting for other people from work and guests from our most valuable client to show up. They were having mixed drinks, I was bringing the class down with a beer.

My current project manager was also taking me to task on the choices of my favorite restaurants. To me, it's all a matter of taste. As in, what do you like to taste or eat? But I'm also rather cheap and uncultured in this area. More often than not, I'm eating in a bar. Bars, for the most part, are not the healthiest or best places to eat. But they come with drink specials.

I love a place called Ragin' Shrimp. It is a Cajun eatery, specializing in rice and seafood dishes with very tasty sauces. The only thing I eat when I go there is this: Shrimp and rice with extra hot Cajun sauce. As much shrimp as I can get (there is a slight charge for extra shrimp) and the accompanying salad and bread. The thing about Ragin' Shrimp that usually turns people off is the heat. Or the fact that later that night or early the next day, you have to relive that hotness from a different orifice. I am not immune to this, even though my body has accustomed itself better than others. I take it as a sign that I shouldn't eat there every day.

"Ragin' Shrimp is unacceptable," my project manager told me, sounding a lot like what the end of bad dates sound like. Somehow, through no fault of my own, I have offended someone's sensibilities.

"Los Cuates?" I try. "Old or new?" she asks. "New, because..." "Unacceptable." "But the new one has margaritas and the old one only has beer." "Unacceptable."

I don't have a favorite place to eat anymore.

But luckily, this last week I did get a couple of free lunches and a dinner courtesy of my company and some of our clients.

My policy on free lunches is this: get the most expensive thing on the menu that seems like it might taste good and don't eat all of it. This shows that I'm not afraid of offending someone's pocketbook, and I'm not a glutton (or starving yourself when the company isn't paying) because I didn't finish. It makes sense in my head, trust me.

On Wednesday, a supplier of ours (and I always get clients and suppliers and outsourcing mixed up...who's working for who here?) took us to a Japanese restaurant that is a mainstay of my boss. I think I've eaten there almost every time I've gone out to eat with him. I got a sushi combo plate and ice tea. During the day (lunches) I usually have tea. It has a little caffeine, but not enough taste to throw off the flavor of the food. Coke kills the taste buds (which is why it's good with fast food) and beer is only good to drink when the boss isn't around.

I got the most expensive lunch (by maybe a couple of bucks) and methodically launched about ten pieces of raw fish and rice into my mouth. One of the last ones I had was the octopus. I had been eyeing this, trying to figure out if it was squid or what. When I stuffed it into my mouth, everyone had to try not to laugh. The thing about octopus is that it's about as easy to chew as a tire and there's not much of a taste to it. I was chewing for a couple of minutes before I could get it into a shape I could swallow. For fun, order this for someone trying out sushi for the first time. I hear it's fun to watch them chew. I left one piece of sushi and a couple of rice rolls on my plate.

At the Old Town restaurant the next day, I was tempted to get more fish, but realized that I should switch gears. I ordered the New York Strip Steak, which was almost the most expensive thing on the menu. It was only fifty cents less than one other dish. This was a large piece of meat. I ate all of the steak, but left a bit of the potato and grilled squash that garnished the meat. I was full and did not order dessert. I didn't even want to taste anyone else's dessert.

But I did find an interesting almost-done-with-dinner topic when I went to the men's room. The guy (a lawyer) in the urinal beside me was talking to a client on his cell phone (this is around 10 at night, by the way), explaining the ins and outs of the case while he took a leak. I tried to interrupt the conversation with loud flushing, but he kept going. So my question to the group was this: If your lawyer calls you up from a urinal, do you have to pay for that time? The general consensus was that the lawyer charged more for such personal attention.

Friday afternoon was the last free lunch of the week. A trendy Italian place we frequent often because it is so close to the office. I got lasagna, which is one of the more pricey menu items. I ate all of the lasagna, but none of the bread--which they brought out on a separate plate special because they forgot to put it on my lasagna plate.

The point to all of this? Well, maybe it's that I didn't have to buy much food this week. Or maybe it's that sometimes eating isn't really about eating at all. Sometimes it's about power and position and proving that you are comfortable with your choices. Meaning, of course, that you are a confident man.

Even though none your favorite restaurants are acceptable choices.

Matt Worley ate close to $100 worth of food and drink on someone else's dime this week.