Friday, July 10, 2015


To some I have a lot of issues: I’m introverted (aka I don’t like people), most recently I found out I’m allergic to being outside and cheap jewelry, I don’t like being touched but the thing that bothers people the most?  I’m a picky eater!  As a picky eater, I am most bothered by the smell, appearance and texture of food.  Like, oatmeal taste good but the texture is horrendous.  Regarding bananas, I hate the smell, look and texture.  And guess what, I spass out when they are in my presence.  When I pass by them in the grocery store, when my husband eats one, when my brother drinks what he thought was a berry shake but I can still smell the nana… Eck!  So parents, being a picky eater is not always a “phase.”  

Like any other picky eater’s childhood, the adults in my life attempted to threaten me if I didn’t eat something.  When they realized I didn’t have a problem being punished and was bout that life, they made some adjustments to accommodate me.  Once I became an adult, I finally felt completely comfortable with being a picky eater.  After all, it’s my responsibility to feed myself but what I’ve come to realize is…that’s not the case; especially, in the south!  For example:

“Try it.  How do you know you don’t like it until you try it?”  My relationship with food is for survival purposes so I don’t have the desire to try new foods.  If I do, it’s because I’ve been curious about it for a long time and have spent years trying to build up the courage to taste it.  This was the case for barbecue ribs and chicken and a few items in the Mexican cuisine.  And guess what? Asking me over and over and over again will not break me.  I don’t want to and you can’t make me *pokes tongue out*

One of the most entertaining (and annoying) experiences is the sheer frustration people experience because I don’t want to eat something.  It could be something they’ve ordered or something they’ve cooked.  THIS is one of the main reasons why I don’t eat at folk’s house.  But, it also happens when I’m ordering out.  If I say “no bread” or “no salad” they lose their shit and start levitating because of something I don’t want to do.  I’m just trying to figure out why it affects them so much… You mad or nah?

If I don’t eat something and I tell you I don’t eat it and you still put it on my plate, I won’t eat anything on that plate.  For example, you get my order confused with my brother who asked for avocado on his burger then proceed to scrape it off my patty and give it back to me.  Excuse me?  If you don’t redo my order!  This also reminds me of cross contamination.  I nearly got banned from Piccadilly because I asked for catfish and the cafeteria lady used the tong from some type of meat soaking in gravy for my catfish.  I told her I wanted another piece of catfish because she got that unidentifiable sauce on my catfish.  She snatched my plate and rolled her eyes because SHE used the wrong tong. Girl….please.  And, I know I don’t know what happens to my food while it’s in the back being prepped but if I see it with my own eyes, no es bueno.

But, there are times when I will take risks.  When I’m home (New Orleans), I’m willing to try new foods.  New Orleans is the eatery capital of the United States!  You can literally go anywhere in any part of the city and eat good food: restaurants, corner stores, gas stations, the sewer, etc… 

Every now and then, I still experience anxiety about food.  Because I’ve been like this all my life, I’m usually prepared for situations in which I may not eat.  This requires me to eat a hearty breakfast and bring a snack.  Most recently, I attended a conference and because there was a registration fee, I just knew we were about to have a bomb lunch but nope, the cheap bastards had cold sandwiches and chips… Nope.  As a result, my friend and I ditched their lunch for a local eatery.  So, for the people who can eat any and everything from everyone, gold star for you but lay off of us who don’t. “ And, who gone check me boo?” 

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