So a friend of mine is a vegetarian. I mean she is a real vegetarian. She eats 0% meat. (I’m hoping someone just said “Ew” to themselves). People will come up to her and when she says she’s a vegetarian other people will say, “Oh I’m a vegetarian too. Well I eat a little chicken every now and then.” Oh really? You’re a vegetarian? Well you sound like a liar to me.
I could never be a vegetarian. I love steak too much. Actually, I love meat too much to give it up. I couldn’t give it up as a Texan because my family would disown me. Just recently, my friend and I were watching the movie Alive (the story of the Uruguayan rugby team who were involved in the crash of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 into the Andes Mountains on October 13, 1972.) They had to resolve to cannibalism so they wouldn’t starve to death.
My friend said she couldn’t do it. She said she “could not live with those memories.” Then she turned to me and asked, “Could you do that?” Seriously have we met? I love meat. I love to live. One plus one equals “I call ribs.”
Ever since then, I always have a little bottle of A1 in my backpack just in case the bus breaks down on campus.