Janelle takes the empty Champagne glass from my hand and swiftly replaces it with a fresh one from a passing waiter. She's determined to get me drunk, I see. A coy smile grows on her face as she sips generously from her own flute.
Well, I might as well enjoy the party.
I stop the passing server that's carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres, and offer Janelle, "Try the steak crostini, it's really good," but she vigorously shakes her head with a disgusted look on her face like she's going to throw up.
"I'm vegan."
Okay. Normally, I don't give a damn what a person's diet preferences are. But vegan people and I just don't pair well. I've had bad experiences with them in the past and I just don't want to deal with all that. I like my meat too fucking much and frankly, if they don't like meat, then they don't deserve mine. Let's not be hypocrites.
