From the pulled pork’s point of view

Dear Lady drinking the Duck-Rabbit Milk Stout on a Sunday before 5 p.m.,*

I apologize for appearing on your plate today.  I agree I was not an acceptable substitute for the crabmeat in an omelet stuffed with goat cheese and fava beans with an avocado sauce drizzled on top.  Thank you for noticing that I was not crabmeat drenched in barbecue sauce.

After the chef admitted the substitution, you placed a new order.  You, the so called vegan – but more accurately called fegan, ordered Eggs Benedict.  Obviously you were in need of a fancier dish to go with your frites and mayonnaise.  I watched your order go out and saw you eat a bite of my former self.  But I have to admit I was very happy when I saw your plate return to the kitchen with most of the ham intact.  I wasn’t the only meat you decided to reject today.

If all of those little creatures that were sitting across from you give you a moment of peace today, please join me in requesting that the chef does not serve a barbecue crabmeat sandwich for lunch tomorrow. If I am taken off of the sandwich there is really no where else for me to go – as you found out today.  Crab has many opportunities that I simply don’t have.  If I can take one bit of solace from all of this at least there is not an imitation form of me…..yet.


The pulled pork you sent back today

*You are a Southern girl now, ma’am. And they don’t drink dark beers.  If you choose to drink at brunch please make sure it is an acceptable drink like a Bloody Mary or a Mimosa.  Something with a fruit or veggie in it.  Not something resembling mud.

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