Saturday, January 12, 2008

The Vegan Diaries, Day 12: Restaurant Paranoia

I was down in Sacramento today to participate in training at Camp Obama. With a name like Camp Obama, I figured there'd be a campfire there where we'd roast marshmallows and tell spooky stories about Hillary Clinton. Nope... it was all about learning how to be a sleazy telemarketer and remind voters to show up to their primaries/caucuses. Suddenly, grass roots campaigning isn't as exciting as I had originally imagined.

I knew I'd be in a sticky situation around lunch time when my group of fellow volunteers would find a place to eat, so I brought a backpack filled with vegan provisions. I figured they'd probably stop at some fast food joint and I could just bring in my food. Wrong again. They wanted to eat at a nice restaurant in Sacramento, so on the walk over to Cafe Bernardo's, I was really starting to panic. Oh dear Lord, please let there be something I can eat so I don't look like a social outcast. Oh please oh please oh please!

When I got inside, I started looking at the overhead menu, and I really started sweating. Everything had cheese in it! Or meat! I couldn't escape them! Even all the salads had cheese on them! Oh no! What was I going to do? But I finally found one item on the list that made me sigh relief: tofu scramble. It didn't sound very appealing, but it was the only choice I had. Tofu scramble it was.

I'm suddenly realizing that no matter what you do with tofu, it still tastes like nothing. My tofu scramble had the appearance of scrambled eggs when it came out to me, and in my brain, I was expecting the taste of some scrumptious eggs. But it was nowhere close to being eggs. It was a plate of scrambled nothing, with onions and bell peppers mixed into it. If it wasn't for the side of browned potatoes, I'd be hurting. But once again, my old friend ketchup came to the rescue. Yes sir. When all else fails, load on the ketchup.

So, happily, my vegan cover wasn't blown at the restaurant, and I didn't become the social outcast that I had feared. Crisis averted! But then during the ride home, one lady kept offering me some string cheese to eat, and I looked at her in horror like she was some coke dealer on the street. Aaaaah! Just say no! Just say no! Where are you, Nancy Reagan, when I need you?

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