Monday Dare: this is why we can’t have nice things

Every Monday, I’m picking from the List of Things to Do, Places to Go, Possible Acts that Help, and Possible Fun to Have. It’s a list I made before The Projectstarted, and I’m still adding to it. If you have suggestions, please feel free to throw them my way. I’m calling the list my Monday Dares, as I get overwhelmed just looking at the words “challenge” or “goal.”

This week : Try new foods.

Over the weekend, Harv took me to a nice restaurant. I was prepared. I brushed my hair. I changed into shoes that didn’t require an athletic sock accompaniment. I even practiced curtsying. That’s what happens in nice restaurants, I think. The maitre’d leads you to a table that doesn’t have a paper table cover and a napkin dispenser; and after he pulls out your chair, you’re supposed to curtsy to show your class and let those bitches know you belong there. 

The meal taught me a few things.

If given a choice between flat, sparkling or ice water, don’t ask, “Which one’s the free one?” It’s the ice water. You’re welcome.

The next time I see a dandelion in the yard, I will not throw it away or spray a shitload of Ortho Weed Killer on it. I will save the weeds the delicacies in a little wicker basket and garnish our Kraft Mac & Cheese with a strand or two.

Next time, after accepting a bite of Harv’s crispy pork belly, I won’t tell the server who dutifully comes by to check on my dining experience that the pork belly was even better than Denny’s Grand Slam bacon. He didn’t understand, but I didn’t hold it against him. Maybe he hasn’t been to Denny’s. I bet the chef would have been happy to hear the compliment. After the server left, Harv sighed and said this is why we can’t have nice things.

I enjoyed my meal immensely. I’d like to divulge in detail all the tasty bits of my meal, but it’s hard to translate fancy-restaurant-menu speak. I recognized some lettuce in my salad, and there might have been a snail or two somewhere.

I’ve been missing out. Growing up in Texas, I rarely ate anything other than the standard fare. I didn’t venture outside the burgers and fries and cheese pasta and pizza and chicken fingers and milkshakes except to share Korean meals with my family. This non-adventurous tendency has stayed with me as an adult. Eel? Liver? Duck? Goose fat? Hell no.

I’m picking one new food each day for the rest of the week. I’m having pre-emptive stomach cramps already.

Are you a picky eater? Have you tried anything new that you’ve ended up loving? Hating?
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Harv and Cal are coming out of the Witness Protection Program. I’m posting a family picture on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page today. “Like” the page and check it out.
image via knockknock.biz

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