Fish Out of Water

I'm a vegetarian. I stopped eating meat at 14, mostly out of novelty. After eight years of veg-life, I've found plenty of my own, more convincing reasons to keep livin' meat free.

I also work at a steakhouse.

By any stretch of the imagination, I shouldn't be working there. I don't know a lick about fine food, I have no idea what's on tap at a bar. I don't care about cooking. I have close to no restaurant experience, and I think $60 for a two person dinner is highway robbery. Even though we serve it, I still don't really know what Orange Roughy is. I'm worse than a fish out of water. I'm a vegetarian at a steakhouse. But the shifts are fun, the people and stories are hilarious and the pay, as far as restaurant work goes, is fabulous.

Recently, I was exposed as a veggie when the kitchen staff saw me picking meat off of a piece of pizza (Yes. We're a nice restaurant, and the staff orders in pizza). The reaction of the crowd was insane.

"Why are you working in a STEAKHOUSE?!"
"Why are you a vegetarian?"
"Is it cause you like animals?"
"Do you think we're gross for eating meat!?"
"Why are you a vegetarian?"
"Are you vegan? Don't be vegan!!!!"
"She's a vegan!" (*No, I'm not.)
"WHY are you a VEGETARIAN?!"

I've been asked all of those questions a million times before, but never all at once. It was really more than I wanted to deal with, and ultimately waved everyone off with the classic reason that human beings do anything.

"Because."

So I was outed, and it was overly dramatic. Such is the world of food service.

On Friday, the head chief pulled me aside to show me the appetizers he had made for the bar that night: potato skins with cheese, chives, sour cream and bacon. Um, swell. Thanks for showing me. But wait...what's that in the corner?

"I made those without meat for you," he said, pointing.

Nothing makes you feel at home like someone cooking for you.