By: Kate Gruetter

National/World Editor

A few months ago, you all read about my fabricated escapades and adventures as a vegetarian. Well, I now have some sad news for you. I’ve abandoned my meatless diet. I wish I could justify this decision with some sort of moral or dietary rationality, but in truth, I really just couldn’t resist In N Out. However, some people in my life are still convinced I refuse meat, namely, my fellow El Gatan Sarah Gouldrup.

Sarah’s first mistake involved an ill-fated trip to the popular restaurant Nick the Greek. Upon frequenting this establishment, I decided to split a Falafel Pita with our fellow El Gatan, Alex Evans, and Sarah quickly validated my decision. “Oh you guys are splitting because you’re both vegetarian,” she commented, proud of her completely incorrect assessment. I’d abandoned meat only recently at this time, so I didn’t condemn Sarah too much for her cluelessness. However, it still hurt to know that a dear friend so casually overlooked such an integral part of my identity. I quickly corrected her, and I thought that was that — the past was past. 

A week or two later, Sarah and I went to In-N-Out in search of some greasy comfort food. After ordering Sarah’s animal fries (no sauce, it makes her stomach hurt), because she’s incapable of doing it herself, I politely asked for a cheeseburger for myself. Upon this request, Sarah turned to me with a judging gleam in her eyes, instantly questioning my choice. After moving forward in the drive-thru line, Sarah once again turned to me. “Aren’t you vegetarian?” she demanded in a tone so critical that my blood curdled. “I haven’t been vegetarian for a month,” I replied, trying for an equally judging tone. She feigned cluelessness, insisting she had no idea. 

This most recent instance was the most upsetting, and the most demeaning. About two weeks ago, Sarah and I went to Santa Cruz (I drove as Sarah is scared of 17). When we arrived, we immediately admitted a mutual craving for poke, so we made our way to the Pacific Avenue Poke House. Once there, I stepped up and ordered a two scoop bowl with a sushi rice base. When the worker asked if I wanted a scoop of crab meat with that, I said yes. “YOU KNOW THAT’S MEAT, RIGHT????!!!” Sarah exclaimed, turning on her heel. The gleam in her eyes conveyed what her words didn’t: what kind of vegetarian orders crab meat, you dumb moron. I was humiliated, for myself of course, but more notably for her. Here she was, acting as though I was some stupid individual unaware of the origins of CRAB MEAT, when really she was the one lacking an understanding of her close friend. That exchange has stayed with me for weeks, and now anytime we go to get Poke, I always anticipate Sarah’s reaction when I ask for crab, though by now she has learned from her mistakes (I hope).