I am a notoriously picky eater. If it has relish, mustard, mayonnaise, catch-up...well, okay, any condiment other than salt and butter, i do not eat it.
If it has beans...well, okay, ANY vegetable...I do not eat it.
If it looks or smells nasty...I do not eat it.
And so forth.
Now, you might think this is a bad thing. You would be wrong.
See, when it comes to restaurants, my life is infinitely more awesome than yours.
Let me explain.
Have you ever gone to a restaurant, carefully looked over the menu, agonized between two or three fine choices, ordered, and then, when the food arrives, had the onset of buyers' remorse?
You look at the delectable plate set in front of your dining companion(s) and realized you made a wrong choice?
That has never...ever...ever... happened to me.
No indeed. I look at their plates and think, "I sure know what I like. I definitely made the right choice for me. In fact, their food makes me want to hurl."
Jealousy at a restaurant, thy name is never mine. I am just cool like that.
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