I was having lunch with a friend of mine in the McDonalds in Lyon, France last April. I began explaining to her that certain McDonalds serve vegetarian burgers – but not all. I told her that when I was in Luxembourg I had a vegetarian burger in the McDonalds. That had been the first time I had a McDonalds burger since I became a vegetarian. At least, that’s what I was trying to say. What came out of my mouth was that was the first time I had a McDonalds burger since I became a lesbian.
Having now distinguished the difference between a vegetarian and a lesbian, I can safely say that I’ve been a vegetarian for 8 years. I would love to give the impression that at the age of 11, I became this “bad-ass, trying to save the whole world” type of character, and that’s why I became a vegetarian. In reality I was just thick. It took me UNTIL THE AGE OF ELEVEN to actually realise where my food was coming from. That bacon came from pigs; beef came from cows; chicken came from…ok, so I was A F*CKING MORAN.
But when the awareness did finally did overcome me, I decided that I was not comfortable with the idea of eating meat. For me, I’ve never been tempted to eat meat. To me, eating meat is like eating a worm – it’s something that will never seem right in my mind. Don’t get me wrong , I am woefully jealous of Chicken Rolls, and leftover turkey – leftover carrots never have the same appeal. Last week I was asked to cook a chicken. I think that’s the definition of “desperate”: asking the vegetarian to cook the chicken. But I did it – successfully and no-one got salmonella.
The biggest pet peeve I have of being a vegetarian is the occasional dicks that want to argue and belittle how I eat. A curious mind is a welcome thing, however an ignorant one will go nowhere. It’s a moral decision ; I do not like the idea of eating animals or fish. The key word in that sentence is “I”. It’s a moral, but personal decision. Each to their own: If you wanna eat your burgers – eat your burgers, I’m just gunna chomp on some veggies and be happy.
Out of 8 in my family – only 2 are vegetarians. I’ve received no protest, no snide remarks. My mum (who I may have inherited my “word vomit” abilities from) once referred to somebody who had been in an accident, as a “vegetarian” instead of a “vegetable” (a horrible term in general). Maybe my mum has a few repressed comments about my eating habits…
I hope that after reading this, you will walk away with at least one thing:
Vegetarianism IS NOT the same as lesbianism.