So, there we were at the hip, new lunch place where attitude trumps prompt service and tasty meals. The counter girl asked what we were talking about so excitedly, so I told her: we were going hunting. With some people, I have a hard time not saying “we are going to Place X to kill things and then eat them,” and there’s a chance I might have uttered those words in this case.
Girl-of-a-dozen-visible-piercings stared, open-mouthed, then took our order with gritted teeth. As if we were plotting a bank robbery and had stopped to pick up some overpriced sandwiches in case some uncooperative hostages forced us to heist through our lunch hour.
Okay, my answer might have been a bit over the top, somewhat antagonistic. But I am sick and tired of torn-jean-and-apron-wearing twenty-somethings looking down their pierced noses at us because we choose to obtain our own meat the old fashioned way. Snotty baristas, brooding Goths, and other sanctimonious types are intolerable enough, but when they are serving you hormone-laced meat dripping with additives and pesticides while wearing leather shoes and animal-tested cosmetics well, they have got another thing coming.
Sometimes, I just can’t resist the clear and present temptation. The BS meter is pegged in the red zone and I’ve just got to get it off my chest.
Contrast that, with this: in line at the airport with duffles, camera bags, tripods, and a few gun cases, the society-type behind me asked where we were going. I said hunting. She asked for what, and I said “food.” That seemed to have the desired effect and we got on famously.
So what was the difference? Honest curiosity and an open mind at the airport, versus a holier-than-thou sandal-wearer with an agenda that obscures their own hypocrisy? Yes. But what about on my end?
Is it time we rise up? Why not get loud and proud, proclaim ourselves the original “locavores,” and develop our own, well, proactive attitude? Why aren’t we calling out those who think a direct connection between killing and eating meat is somehow barbaric, but eating something killed by others is not?
What would you have done?
FYI: she screwed up our lunch order, too.