Thursday, October 09, 2008

Sorry about that, Bessy

Remember back in December, I heard from my mom and she told me that my brother was out elk hunting. I thought it was awful, how horrible, and then she was like, "What are you having for dinner...vegetarian?"

So I decided that if I can't kill something outright, I shouldn't be able to eat it. Yes, I could kill a chicken. But I couldn't kill a cow, so I haven't eaten red meat since that time. I'm still of the same mind. But I did fudge, just once. It went like this:

It was July, during my self-imposed Survivor Weekend on Fire Island. I'd lived on nothing but booze and bagels, had slept in an abandoned house with ticks and mouse droppings, and by the time I arrived drunk to a mid-afternoon BBQ. I went up to the grill with my paper plate in two hands because I was so jittery, and I spoke to the cook:

Me: "Do you have anything vegetarian?"
Cook: "There's Macaroni Salad in the kitchen..."
Me: "...I'll just have a burger."

And I had it. And it tasted really, really good.

In all fairness, at that moment I probably would have killed a cow.

2 comments:

Steven said...

My friend was the same way.

Then she binged because she went without for years.

I'm talking about meat, not... you know.

Mark in DE said...

Funny!

Mark :-)