I’m a picky eater. There’s no other way of saying it. I don’t eat alot of stuff, mostly meat. Am I a vegetarian? Not quite.
I don’t eat all meat and seafood. But I do eat Fish n Chips,Filet O Fish, Nuggets and the occasional Chicken Rice. And when it comes to vegetables, I am also picky. Yes, I do eat ALL vegetables. But when given a choice, I rather stick to a few.
Last week, I attended a CNY lunch and silly me forgot to ask for vegetarian. So I sat there for the entire 8 course, eating only the dessert. After the event, the boss brought me to MacDonald’s so I can grab some food.
This colleague, who I’m meeting for the first time, seemed intrigued. She started asking loads of questions. I tried my best to explain. I can’t stand the thought. I don’t like the taste. I don’t know why I only eat meat in certain forms. Yes, I know those meat are killed in the same way. Yes, I stopped eating meat for a few years but started again because it helps to calm the mother.
But all these reasons didn’t seem to satisfy her. She kept going on and on. It feels like she wanted me to say, “Yes, you’re right. I will stop eating those meat.”
Having just sat through a lunch without eating, I am quite irrtable. So, I went, “Please stop asking. I know they are the same. But if you keep on asking, I will stop meat all together and my parents will start worrying. We don’t want that, do we?”
I mean, SERIOUSLY! I don’t stand over you and make you guilty for eating meat, do I? Sigh.
I’ve always been weary about eating out with people I’ve just met. It’s just hard. There’s no understanding my eating habits. Just accepting it.
I prefer eating with the usual suspects, the family and the girls. They are so used to my eating habits and to me that they know they can just order what they like, go where they want to and I will always find something that I can eat there. They know that the more they fuss, the more frustrated I get.
The colleagues are slowly getting it, I think. And I am always grateful when they try to factor in my preference when going for food.
Only people close to me knows how far they can push me in terms of trying new food. How to coax me and trick me into eating meat. Like how my mum slowly re-introduced soft-boiled eggs into my diet or how the usual suspects dared me into eating “hum” (eck).
I’ll always remember the time I stopped eating meat. I was around 4 or 5 and my grandpa had to run after me with a piece of fish coated in ketchup. And around 6 or 7, someone asked me why I stopped and I said -
I think it’s very cruel. Imagine the fish is just swimming happily in the sea with its family and then get killed “
So yes. DON’T ASK!