I Don’t Have the Chops

Many years ago on my dad’s small mixed-farm

I place my lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, cucumber,
sockeye salmon and two pork chops on the counter.

The pretty clerk with discrete nose ring and clavicular tattoo,
keys in codes
and while scanning the chops turns to her trainer
and says,
“I just don’t get meat!”

As shamings go — relatively effective.
Not so much as to de-swine my diet or steer it clear. I’m sorry.
But I felt the sting. Flushed. Exposed. Gastronomical Philistine.

I have no quarrel with vegetarians or their stricter cousins.
I know many, and those I know, I love.
I’ve shared their tables, gone to their eateries, relished
their roasted squash salad with tahini vinaigrette,
savoured their shiitake stew with gratitude.

I applaud and admire their desire for non-exploitative eating.
Even as I grow more and more conscious
of the environmental repercussions
of animal agribusiness.

The young ideal clerk doesn’t know me, likely never will.
Doesn’t know that as far as these things go
I’ve been buying less and less butchered flesh.

I lift my reusable bag and exit through the glass doors.
My better side wishing for an earnest conversation;
my regular side ransacking my brain for some
smart, almost-cutting quip.
Alas, I am too slow.
I suspect it’s the meat.

10 Comments

  1. I confess I’m an unrepentant carnivore – If meat and potatoes was good enough for my folks it’s good enough for me:). I don’t get “beyond meat”, somehow it seems to me falling a bit “short of meat.” But, I have had truly delicious meatless meals.

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