Nothing tears apart close friends like a friendly disagreement over…condiments?
What the fu…
Honestly, I’m not the type of guy to make a scene. At least not in public, anyways. But every once in a while, a hill comes along worth dying on, so to speak.
So, pray tell, is the one hill that I can remember actually almost dying on? What was the topic so controversial, the opponent so clearly wrong, the stakes so unbelievably high, that I would be willing to come thiiiiis close to getting into a raging fist-fight and nearly getting hauled off in handcuffs?
The hill I chose to die on, my friend, was the one slathered in an undeniably delicious sweet, tangy zip.
You see, back in my grad school days I was on the Physics Grad Student Body’s Social Committee, and me and a couple of my fellow chums in the department were in charge of putting together the annual end-of-the-school-year/spring picnic. We had met up for lunch at a restaurant near campus to do the most banal of all tasks imaginable: put together the shopping list for the event.
It was easy enough to agree on the condiments we felt we should have in ample supply: ketchup, mustard, relish, and mayonnaise…wait, what?
Back that up just a second buddy!
No, I don’t agree that mayonnaise is the universal white condiment of choice! I mean, if that’s what you need to lube the food before you shovel it down your gullet, then who am I to judge? People who prefer the Good Stuff–Miracle Whip–are probably nearly as prevalent as the folk who somehow enjoy vinegar mixed with eggs, and should be considered as well.
I made the completely reasonable suggestion that we should just get both and everyone would be happy.
But in the name of all that’s holy, I have no idea how such a simple topic and such a clear-headed suggestion took the turn it did. But a turn indeed did it take.
Wool E. Mammoth, one of the other committee members, decided to be a complete troll about it, and basically forced me to decide whether I was passionate enough about my ‘Whip to defend its honor to the end.
Turns out, I was. I’m almost ashamed to say that things got a little heated and a little loud, and some of the other patrons at the restaurant were starting to give us nervous looks. Yeah, I might have yelled a little bit.
But here’s the deal: when I reflect on that interesting moment in my life–one that cooled off before the cops were called or punches thrown, by the way–I only regret it so much. Why? Because I realized that it wasn’t a matter of oozing white slime on sandwiches that was at issue.
It’s about giving a voice to the voiceless…considering those with slightly less popular opinions…being a champion on behalf of those who are not there to defend themselves…standing up to the condiment bullies who are trying to screw over the little guy…
*Braveheart music*
*Fist-pump of victory*
Huh? Oh, pardon me, I got caught up in the moment, righteous anger, social justice and all.
Now only if I would get off my sandwich high-horse and actually champion a truly worthy cause…
Content created on: 4 March 2021 (Thursday)
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