Happy a s a Pig in…

I was at BBQ recently at a coworker’s house where the host did a pig roast. It was awesome. The skin was crispy, the meat was tender, everything was seasoned just right. As I sat down with my plate full of pig, I looked around at everyone at my table and they all looked so happy. That is, everyone except for one girl who looked absolutely disgusted. Amongst all the smiling delighted faces, her repugnant scowl stood out like a sore thumb. As I watched in slow motion I could see her begin to open her mouth. I could tell she was about to ruin everything, but I couldn’t get to her in time to stop it. It was like that scene in Bronx Tale when Calogero sees the dude who is about to whack Sonny at the party.

Yes, this is an appropriately dramatic comparison.

As we all sat enjoying our roast swine, this one party assassin opens her stupid face and asks us all, “How could you eat that?” She then gave us the standard uptight asshole “Pig is a filthy animal and here are all the reasons why” speech. At that exact moment, I wished I was a woman so it would be okay for me to punch her in the face.  You could see everyone at the table just die a little inside. Its not necessarily that she was going to convince any of us that what we were doing was bad, it was just the fact that she felt like it was okay for her to pull this shit at a fucking BBQ. Especially a BBQ with a PIG ROAST AS THE MAIN ATTRACTION!!!

(Here’s some more exclamation points to drive home that last point – !!!!!!!)

In the right setting I don’t mind being educated on the merits of healthy eating. I don’t mind if someone who cares about me tells me why I should eat kale or why I shouldn’t eat Taco Bell. In general I know what to stay away from or what I should be eating in moderation. To a certain degree I think we all know what we should and shouldn’t be eating. That doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy ignoring the rules every once in a while. The last thing we all want when we choose to indulge in a pint of iced cream, or a combo meal at our favorite fast food joint, or a full plate of roast hog, is some jerk there pointing out all the reasons why we are going to regret our decision later. Okay, I get it. You read a book. Good for you! I don’t want to know what you saw on Dr. Oz. I don’t care at what age your cousin had a heart attack. That’s very nice that you feel the best you’ve ever felt. I don’t want to know any of that right now. All I care about in this moment is this pig. The guy in the Matrix had the right idea…

“Ignorance is bliss.”