People always ask me, “Tim, why do you pick on orphans?” to which I respond: “Not ‘why,’ but ‘how.’”
Anywho, there are many ways a person can screw up a date. My last date messed up horribly when he decided to order a vegetarian meal. Now I don’t like to judge people, but vegetarians are extremely insecure people. They always feel the need to hide behind their ethics instead of improving on their personality. They don’t choose something relevant to care about, like Oprah’s show ending in 2011, but choose to devote their moral values towards “animals” and their “lives.”
Take for instance, the date in reference:
Nate: “I’m going to order the nut sandwich.”
Me: “I’m gonna get the sausage pie.”
Nate: “Wow, there must be a lot of calories in that. But you look like you can take it.”
Me: “Are you making a pass at me?”
Nate: “No, not at all. I just mean you’re thin and probably have a fast metabolism.”
Me: “A fast what? Speak English, this isn’t Egypt.”
Nate: “Um, I’m not Egyptian.”
Me: “Then why the hell are you eating carrots all day?”
Nate: “Is that even an Egyptian thing?”
Me: “Listen, I don’t think we’re very compatible.”
Nate: “Obviously, since you’re fucking crazy.”
Me: “Please, language, there are children about.”
<Nate looks around>
Nate: “No there aren’t!”
Me: “See that woman down there?”
Nate: “Yea…”
Me: “Is she fat, or is she pregnant?”
Nate: “She’s pregnant, what are you getting at?”
Me: “She’s pregnant, you confirm this.”
Nate: “Yea. She’s pregnant. So what?”
Me: “Do you think her fetus is developing without ears?”
Nate: “Look you psycho, a fetus can’t hear me cuss.”
Me: “Haven’t you read any studies? Or do you not believe in science?”
Nate: “Of course I believe in science, but it’s not like her fetus can even hear me from so far away.”
Me: “It’s only 20 meters.”
Nate: “No it’s not, it’s 20 feet.”
Me: “Are you bashing me for using the metric system?”
Nate: “No, I’m not, okay, it’s like 7 meters then.”
Me: “You’re just against my heritage.”
Nate: “No way! I respect all cultures!”
Me: “Please don’t use this tone around children.”
Nate: “Lunatic! There are no kids around!”
Me: <across the room> “Ma’am. Ma’am! I’m sorry that my ‘date’ here is saying ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ all the goddamn time. His mother didn’t teach him manners. I hope you won’t be stupid enough to mess up your child.”
Nate: “Alright you loon, I’m leaving.”
Me: “What? Why?”
Nate: “Uh, take a guess.”
Me: “Damn it, why does this always happen?”
Nate: “Jesus. Someone should tape record you and show you what you’re like.”
Me: “I’m not making a sex tape with you.”
Nate: “God, you really don’t get anything, do you?”
Me: “Look, you’re sweet and all, but, you’re not really my type.”
Nate: “Why am I still here? I’m going! Goodbye!”
Me: “Ok, but uh, what’s the point of coming to dinner if you don’t even eat anything? What, you got morals against eating lettuce now too?”
Nate: “As a matter of fact, I’m starting a new group that doesn’t kill vegetables in a cruel way.”
Me: “…Really?”
Nate: “Yea. You’re probably not interested. But so far, there are 14 of us who are going to protest the way Whole Foods kills their potatoes.”
Me: “…What’s wrong with their method?”
Nate: “We find the way they have the potatoes simply pulled out of the ground very sadistic.”
Me: “Is that a fact.”
Nate: “Yea, here’s a pamphlet.”
<Nate hands Tim a pamphlet>
Nate: “It talks about how cauliflower is preferred over broccoli due to systematic vegetable color racism.”
Me: “I personally like cauliflower’s texture better.”
Nate: “Well you’re a vegetable racist.”
Me: “It says here that ‘Bringing your children apple-picking will send your little ones straight to the fiery pits of hell, burning neck deep in charcoal,’ and that it will be followed by ‘A ritual where kids faces will be kicked in by the hoof of the devil.’
Nate: “We have a bible that clearly states ‘Thou shalt not pick the fruits of Mother Earth, lest you desire wrath by thee form of rains of grape be fallen upon thy home.’”
Me: “You mean it’ll rain grapes if you eat fruit?”
Nate: “Not in so many words, but yes.”
Me: “You. Are. Insane.”
Nate: “Excuse me?”
Me: “Uh, dude, I gotta go.”
Nate: “I thought I enlightened you.”
Me: “I thought it was some sort of joke.”
Nate: “You will feel the wrath soon for your blasphemy.”
Me: “Yea, I’m real scared it’s about to rain grapes. I hope it’s not the seedless ones.”
Nate: “Then continue living your life as a homicidal celery murderer.”
Me: “I hope you don’t choke on an artichoke.”
Nate: “Good one.”
Me: “Don’t get squashed by a squash.”
Nate: “Keep ‘em coming.”
Me: “Have fun coming out, to a brussel sprout.”
Nate: “Funny.”
Me: “Go eat beans with Mr. Bean.”
Nate: “The coming out one was better.”
Me: “I know. Bye.”
<I stand up and make my way out.>
Nate: “Enjoy being a vegetable, Tim Timato.”
<I stop and turn around>
Me: “Actually-“
<And pause for dramatic effect>
Me: “Tomatoes are fruits.”
Finally, I put on my sunglasses and made my way out into the night. This is why I don’t date vegetarians, they’re all mental. Well, after that, I hit up a club and danced to She Wolf at some point. I realized I’d rather be single like Shakira than spend my life with a vegetarian/cult member. There’s a she wolf in her closet. In her closet, indeed.
