I've recently decided to become a vegan, possibly not for the most common reason which is save animals etcetera etcetera.
I'm doing it because I used to be a flat blob and now care considerably about my health. Being a vegan is a challenge; no meat, seafood or any form of dairy. I've had to make some major changes to all facets of life but I think it's ultimately worth it now that my stomach is washboard flat, I don't fart incessantly and my skin looks as smooth as a baby's rear end.
Currently I'm in Europe. The French thought I was a bit queer, the most common response being; 'Butteer? Vot do you mean you don't eat butteer?' (Note the attempted accent).
Now I'm back in London and people are generally accommodating.
However, we went to High Tea yesterday, something booked months in advance and reconfirmed twice noting the experience contained a vegan participant (aka me).
So, we arrived and I was excited. After all, months of notice should have resulted in something spectacular for the non-meat-eating, dairy-dissing queen of horror fiction.
I had a bloody hummus sandwich with the crusts cut off because the booking was never entered and they had forgotten my dietary requirements.
To give me my due, I didn't explode in a champagne spew of fury. I sat calmly, smiling brightly while everyone else had their delicious cakes and pastries and I ingested chickpea paste and plotted a hotel bombing.
But to every low there is a high and to be fair I didn't die and saved my waistline, so we'll take it as a win for today even if I still dream of shoving a corkscrew up the unorganised staff's asses and twisting until they pop.