I Don't Eat Meat.

I haven't eaten meat in years. I phased it out gradually, with red meat going first. Pork followed, seafood was next, then finally, finally, I stopped eating chicken. That was over ten years ago, the chicken. It doesn't bother me to serve meat or see others eat it--it's just a personal preference of mine not to eat it. I'm pretty flexible though, and have been known to pick pieces of chicken out of a pasta dish and eat the rest, if the situation--like a Christmas Eve dinner--calls for it (but they must be chucks of chicken, not shredded bits, Dad, because I do draw the line there).

So, I've been given lots of "remedies" to heal my burn. And I use the word remedy loosely, my friends, because some of these so-called remedies require kitchen secrets that even I, who believe in the restorative power food, am unwilling to try. Like, oh, rubbing a tomato on my scabby burn. Cause that? The acid and the seeds and the juices? On my open wound?
NOT HAPPENING.
Another one that's not happening?
Eating the skin of a chicken every day.
Yes, this was the advice of a well-intentioned customer. I kind of laughed, thanked him, and explained that I don't eat meat, so while it might help my burn, it would make the rest of my body mighty unhappy. I mean, can you imagine what my stomach would be thinking?
"Geez, you haven't eaten chicken for over ten years and you start off by shoving greasy skin down your throat." (Because apparently my body parts converse amongst themselves.)

So that's all I said, "I don't eat meat." But I was then subjected to a lecture about meat not being bad and that vegetarianism is overrated. This has happened at the restaurant, too. A lot of times I lie and say, "Yes, the chicken parm is my favorite!" Most of the time I don't, though, because I am a straight-forward person. So I say, "I don't eat meat, but the veal marsala is our best-selling dish." Very non-confrontational, matter-of-fact. And I constantly get mini lectures from people. Dude, I just recommended the veal. Don't lecture me. I could care less what you eat; I was just explaining why I don't personally know the consistency of the chicken pate balls (I can lie about a lot--I have an idea what shrimp scampi tastes like, but I honestly have no idea how to describe things I've never, ever tasted, like pate balls. Which, for the record, look foul [fowl? ha.]).

I guess my point is, since, as a bookseller/waitress, I'm in the position where I'm supposed to submit to the customer, I am now just going to lie my ass off. These people think that they're somehow above me, that I need their wisdom in my uneducated and misdirected life. It's disrespectful of them to lecture me, really. I would lose my job if I did the same, if I'd told Mr. Chicken Skin that Meat is Murder! That he should think of the chickens! Or something else that I would NEVER say. But since I have done my research and am extremely educated on the subject of animal cruelty, it's downright offensive for someone to orate to ME about my choices, especially since all I brought to the conversation was the extremely passive statement of "Thank you, but I don't eat meat, so..."

I don't eat chocolate, either, but it's never been a subject for debate.

I'm just fucking sick of people talking down to me.