Yesterday, my mom, sister and I were eating lunch at Nordies (so 1996 of us, I know, we love it) and I think I found my future dinner table partner for life. A table runner named Andy. He was adorable and wore thick framed glasses and totally understood why I didn't want a sour cream drizzle and cheddar cheese garnish on my vegan black bean soup.
He topped off my black coffee and didn't ask if I wanted any cream, and at the end of our meal he brought a tray with two chocolate mint sticks and a mini box of organic raisins for me, so I wouldn't feel left out if I "wanted a little something sweet." I'm pretty sure my resting b*tch face was blushing.
It was love, and it took me a hell of a long time to find it.
Being vegan is the ultimate c*ckblock in the dating world.
Seriously, you're better off saying you have the herp than spreading the word that you don't eat the chewy meats and cheeses.
I've had so many boyfriends that have totally sucked at accepting the fact that I choose to eat vegan. I literally could write an epic novel devoted to each and every one of them. Sure, it wasn't their total hypocritical ignorance to kale and quinoa that persuaded me to giving them the ax, but it certainly was straw that broke the poor herbivore's back.
And let me preface this with the fact that I am the most unobtrusive vegan to walk the planet. I'll totally eat a bite of your Persian mother's carnivorous cooking, I genuinely love your head to toe leather look, and I'm so down with really sugary frosting off grocery store bought birthday cake...as long as we're being celebratory, it's a bunch of artificial sh*t anyway.
But, some of you really pissed me off...
1. There was Ryan. Ryan was a people pleaser.
He would ask me out days in advance and spend hours Yelping the crunchiest vegan restaurants in the city. He would only take me out to restaurants that had hemp décor and served raw macrobiotic bowls with unheard of organic ingredients. I would tell Ryan over and over again that we could go to normal places, places where I could actually wear my leather Givenchy boots to without getting PETA prosecuted, order a salad with three simple ingredients, and drink half my weight in wine, but he wouldn't hear of it. After two months of dining out in granola hubs that smelled like feet (I'm sure it was the tahini) and failing to get drunk off of liters of kombucha because none of the veggie dens had an actual liquor license, I ended things with Ryan.
May he R.I.P.
2. Then there was Andrew. Andrew was a full of sh*t human being.
We would go out to really amazing restaurants and every time he opened up a menu he would praise himself on how great of a vegan he was 90% of the time and that he "hadn't eaten red meat in years." He said that I made him a healthy human being. I would tell him supportively, "babe, I'm so proud of you," as I rolled my eyes and downed my gin in preparation for what I knew was coming next. Andrew would make a huge fuss over there being no vegan options at Mastro's, spend ten minutes trying to create something elaborate while lecturing the poor waitress at her inability to write fast enough, and then he would order a steak. With the brown butter glaze. When it came time for the plates to be cleared, Andrew would literally hold up his hand like a total prick and say, "not finished." He would then take his finger, drag it across the plate, and lick off the last of the butter that had collected on his plate. Andrew was under 30, super hot and was the CEO of not one, but a handful of Forture 500 corporations and I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt so badly and pretend he was just mentally ill, but I couldn't hang.
May he R.I.P.
3. Then, there was Bill. Bill was too lazy to google what being vegan was.
Every time we would go out he would want to share these retarded animal-based dishes. Cheese boards, seafood platters, pulled pork sliders, you name it. Bill was hilarious and a riot to hang out with, so I was always super agreeable and accommodating, tactfully dodging around the weird things he would want to get and drinking very heavily. I told him time and time again that I was in fact a vegan, but that he could get whatever he wanted. Knock your carnivorous socks off, Bill. At Taco Tuesday he would go, "hm, you're vegan, what to get, what to get...how about we start off with the queso dip!" or one time at brunch, "this place has the best eggs benedict! I know you're vegan, so you can order it with poached salmon instead of canadian bacon!" - like wtf, Bill. One morning he made me scrambled eggs and chicken sausage. I drank my black coffee standing up and left.
May he R.I.P.
Sure, I was hard to get and a mystery in the beginning, I could tell off the bat that Kevin loved a challenge. But, what really hooked Kevin was the fact that I didn't eat animal products and he believed that he was the one person set out on this earth to change me. What silly Kevin didn't know, is that all he needed to do is slip a Maple Bacon Bar by Chuao in front of me with a bottle of champagne, and my vegan roots would crumble to the ground right then and there. I have my weak moments, shoot me. Anyway, every time we went out, Kevin would order a delicious looking burger or creamy lobster mac and cheese and prompt me by saying, with one eyebrow raised, "come on honey, one bite." Barf. Everyone knows a vegan is like a cat. The vegan will come to you, you do not come to it. One evening, Kevin came after me saying "just one bite, you know you want to." I clawed him.
May he R.I.P.
5. Then, there was John. John was very philosophical.
In the beginning, John was way too into learning about being vegan. He wanted to read my books, he wanted to watch Netflix documentaries with me, he wanted to pick my garden of a brain to a barren dirt patch for information about being vegan. I thought it was sweet at first, he was so oddly interested, but it didn't freaking end. The "well, what do you eat?" and "why are you vegan?" questions came up during each meal and every other pre-yoga snack. A quick little FYI to those who may not be aware: We hate explaining to people why we're vegan, just as much as you hate hearing it, if not more. That being said, I dumped John with no explanation.
May he R.I.P.
*All names have been changed in order to protect the ex-boyfriends who deserve a smelly soy cheese slapping and overcooked tofurkey beating. Lastly, if you are a boy and are entertaining the idea of a vegan girlfriend, a word of advice: just let her freaking be, she will survive.