Everyone is just pretending to be interesting, right?
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve pretended to care about how good food was at a specific restaurant. Or how many times I’ve said “oh yeah, I gotta check that out” to someone’s recommendation for the best food truck. To be honest, I forget the name of the place the moment the last syllable of the word passes through their lips. Because for the most part, food tastes the same. Sure, there are some places that have better (insert whatever), and there’s a couple of places I’d recommend people try if they’re in a specific area. Actually there’s probably only one place because I’m a creature of habit and trying new and interesting foods isn’t that exciting to me. I know what I like dagnabit! (Thumps cane against the floor, complains about aching bones).
That’s like, a thing now. To act like this place has the best toasted spider legs I’ve EVER had and if you don’t go there at the end of this sentence, are you really living?! I went on this Tinder date once and this guy’s jaw practically dislocated when I told him A) I don’t eat meat and B) I’ve never had green fried tomatoes. He told me he doesn’t believe we should live our lives with any limitations. I told him to jump off a cliff and see how free he feels (I didn’t say that but I wanted to). He then insisted that I order green fried tomatoes, which I did, and I pretended to like because he was staring at me like if I didn’t say they were the next best thing to taking breath, his mom would die. Honestly, they tasted like deep fried boogers but, whatever. He also took me to this breakfast place that he swore by, that he ate at almost religiously. They’re very hip and they serve their food on, I dunno, brown parchment paper or something. Anyway, the waffle was fine, it tasted like all the other waffles I’ve had. He said because I don’t eat meat, I was lacking the true experience of the place. So, I guess I’ll die having never done that and my life meant nothing. (Hey, guy, if you ever read this for some reason, you’re really cool and I hope you don’t take offense. Hugs. Kisses)
Don’t get me wrong, food is delicious or … you know what why am I still pretending?! Food is FINE. It’s, it’s fine! I love Chipotle, and yeah, I also pretend like the worst thing a person can say to me is that they don’t like Chipotle. I’m very dramatic and hyperbolic in that way sometimes. But in reality, it doesn’t matter what restaurant is cool or hip or fun to eat at or serves the best drinks, because you know what happens to that cooooool food? Your body turns it into fuel and then excretes the useless bits as a brown loaf from a hole in the back of you. And if you think about it that way it’s really not that interesting.
Our flesh vessels will soon rot, and our souls will return from whence they came. And when the earth has reused our corpses to heal itself, the best taco you’ve ever had won’t matter. So eat and be merry, annoy people like me with your (most likely fake) obsession with instagrams of kale salads and snapchats of the live concert you went to (which was probably great for you but is just blurs of bodies and noise to your viewers). Believe in something, or don’t, love someone or don’t, sing in the shower or don’t, read books or don’t. Because nothing matters and everything matters and it’s 2 pm and I haven’t eaten yet.