No one will warn you about food peer pressure, except me.

13 Jun

When you’re in elementary school, your teachers and the principal will talk to you about a little thing called peer pressure.

It’s when your friends and buddies will try to get you to drink alcohol (gasp!), or smoke cigarettes (double gasp!), or try drugs (faints!).

Peer pressure sucks and it’s very very hard to rise above. Especially when you’re young. Hell, it’s difficult now.

That’s right. Peer pressure never really goes away.

But as a could-I-stab-it-to-death-a-tarian, I’ve experienced a whole other level of peer pressure. The pressure to eat meat against my will.

Since I stopped chowing down on mammals when I was 12 (yeah, 12), my pubescent and teenaged years will filled with snotty brats shoving burgers and ham sandwiches in my face. They’d munch on hotdogs proclaiming, “Oh, this dead pig is SO GOOD!” And then offer me a bite just to watch me squirm.

They thought they were so clever. They thought they were the first person to ever make fun of my diet. They thought they had a career in standup? I don’t know what they thought. Trying to get people to eat or drink stuff they don’t like never made sense to me.

I never gave in. And I won’t, because this shit STILL HAPPENS.

I still have a few friends and family members who can’t fight their compulsion to offer me meatballs or fried chicken knowing damn well I don’t eat it. Like I’m going to toss 17 years of standing my ground down the disposal. In front of everyone.

“It’s good. You’d like it.”

“Are you suuuuure?”

“Well, there’s an extra piece up here if you decide to change your mind.”

Fuck you, I’m not changing my mind. I don’t want to give you the bloody satisfaction of popping my carnivorous cherry.

Was that too graphic? Fuck you if you think so. It’s no worse then trying to get me to eat beef jerky or drink bacon vodka.

Food peer pressure sucks calf fries.

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