Fact Friday!
I stole this idea from my sister’s blog (www.einthepink.com). It is indeed an easy and fun way to share random tidbits about myself, so that you, my dear readers (if I actually have any) can know me better.
Fact:
Pickles are evil and I have only eaten 2 on purpose – but I was getting paid to do so (one was a $1 dare from my dad, the other was a $5 dare from dad ~ inflation and all). Picky eating habits run in my family…it’s sad, really. And pickles happen to be one of the most vile and abhorrent creations ever to accidentally end up on my plate (or my mom’s, my brother’s, my sister’s…) It is strange (and annoying) how I can be so specific about deep-sixing the pickle with my order…
Deep-six
Delete
Nix
Eliminate
Erase
Scrap
Can
Obliterate
Abolish
Reject
Exclude
Jettison
…and STILL end up staring down the slimy green spear on the side of my plate when our orders arrive. No pickles. Period. End of sentence. It is difficult to disregard one when it comes on the plate after the specifications have been made. The juice from said item puddles on the plate soaking into and contaminating anything around it, namely the hamburger bun or sandwich bread, french fries or chips…you get the idea. Then I’m left with a quarantined portion of the plate that must be sopped up with a napkin, I don’t care of it’s cloth I’ll use it anyway, and soggy bread items must be removed or set aside. That’s how much I dislike this commonly popular side-item. It is a real process. My husband doesn’t understand why it is such a big deal, but think about it. If you bring me a pickle, you are
A) wasting a pickle
B) making me unhappy
C) wasting napkins
D) possibly having to redo a sandwich or burger, depending on placement of the pickle (ON the sandwich or burger is just unacceptable) , thus wasting food
To clarify, I do not make a fuss with the wait staff if I can resolve the situation myself with above actions (removal, cleaning of plate…). It’s not worth fussing over, I just don’t like them. The smell, the taste, the whole experience of a pickle (which I observe with my husband and sister-in-law on a regular basis) is unappealing in general. So, hold the pickle please!
