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Saturday, March 20, 2004

 
Adventures of An Accidental Vegetarian -- Yeah, I know, I don't want this blog to become a "comics and STOP EATING MEAT!" blog either. Let me know if I get lecturey. I swear to you, you wanna keep eating meat, that's your b-i-bidness.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon was extremely stressful for my wife and I. Her lemon Ford Focus for the third time just decided it doesn't want to start again. She's had this car for a year or so now, and every few months it shits the bed, and no one ever explains what the problem is, and eventually it starts again, and one time it was real funny because the jackass in the service department tried to tell my wife that her cell phone could be causing the problem. Anything but admit the lousy car is, oh, yeah, right: LOUSY.

So, I drove to where the giant paperweight Ford Focus was sitting, picked up my wife's grandmother (they'd just had lunch together), and drove her home while my wife waited for the tow truck.

Dropped off Lora's grandmother at her house, drove back to the scene of the crime Ford Focus not working, and waited an hour with my wife and kids in my car while the tow truck took its own sweet time getting there.

Eventually they came and once again hauled off her car -- hey, next time is #4 and New York's Lemon Law kicks in, so bring it on because this car is more lemony than Lemon Pledge -- and we decided that the previous plan of dinner at home was going to be replaced by a decadent evening of dining out at an area restaurant. This is always problematic when it's a last-minute idea that pops up at 5:30 on Friday afternoon, and now I had the added consideration (and thanks for waiting for it) of being a vegetarian.

Digression: Haven't eaten meat in nearly a month now, but I still feel weird calling myself a vegetarian. Am I a vegetarian yet? Hmm.

Anyway: We ended up driving to Lake George to see if our favourite Italian place was open. Nope, "Reopening April 1." I figure they won't, that's an April Fools joke, right? So we drove south back through the village and pulled into the lot of an Italian place we'd never tried before that we had noticed was open on our way through the first time. Lake George is a resort town, mostly closed up at this time of year, so in a way it was a surprise that any place was open.

This place that was open, though, we got there and went in. My wife and daughter went to the bathroom almost immediately, leaving my son and I to peruse the menu.

Now, I was really tired. I got up for work Friday morning at 2 AM, and the stressful afternoon left me not-quite-thinking-straight. Very "In The Moment," just wanted to find something to drink and something to eat and forget the annoyances and frustrations of the previous two hours. So, me and the menu:

Scallops, mmm, scallops are good. I like chicken parmesan. Ooh, haven't had veal in a while. Maybe I'll -- maybe I'll -- oh, wait. Wait. Stop.

I'm a vegetarian.

Fuck, ravioli. Ravioli and tomato sauce. They don't even have mushroom sauce. I hope it's cheese ravioli, not goddamned beef, like, Chef Boyardee?

Anyway, once I realized this brain fart I was apparently suffering, I laughed out loud, LOL as they say on the computer internet. My son asked me why I was laughing, and I told him it was nothing, but when an 8-year-old boy wants to know what you're laughing about, he doesn't quit until he gets an answer, so I told him:

I was trying to find something to eat on the menu, and I remembered that I don't eat meat, and suddenly it occurred to me that I feel like an alien who's landed on an unfamiliar planet and I can't eat the food here!

In one of those great parent-child bonding moments, he immediately understood where I was coming from, and he laughed too. His Dad is an Alien. Alien David Doane.

So, yeah, I ordered the damn ravioli with tomato sauce, and they were very accomodating with throwing some mushrooms into the sauce. It was actually very fresh pasta and tasted delicious, and although they weren't on the menu, when we were told they had cannoli, that was it: No scallops for me, but at least there was cannoli. For a brief, shining moment, all was well with the world.

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