Every time I go into the office kitchen, I seem to have the same conversation.
“Is that a veggie burger?”
“Yeah”
“Are you a vegetarian?”
“Usually”
What follows is hearty talk regarding how long 24 years is and how difficult it must be. I get to tell people that I was a picky eater, as a kid. I highlight the camp experience wherein vegetarianism = peanut butter sandwiches and everybody laughs.
“But do you eat seafood? No chicken?”
I explain my flawed sense of food self. Describe Patty’s Thanksgiving and Mariel’s shrimps. I’m told about failed attempts at vegetarianism. I pretend that it’s a healthier lifestyle and that I don’t get frequent nosebleeds.
It’s fun to talk about food.
julie warshaw 