clumsy vegetarian

So, I’m pretty sure that I consumed chicken broth today. I’m not entirely sure because I chose not to ask my waitress about it, but while my boyfriend was in the bathroom and I was waiting on the check I googled recipes for lemon potatoes and half of the recipes called for chicken broth. Considering the gooey moistness of the roasted potatoes that were on my plate they were probably roasting in something more than just a sprinkling of olive oil and lemon juice. I could be wrong though. As I chose not to ask my waitress if the lemon potatoes were vegetarian the cat is both dead and alive. Or, rather, the lemon potatoes are both vegetarian and swimming in the juice of murdered foul. Fingers crossed.

I’m a bit clumsy with my vegetarianism- which is why my veganism is past tense. (I fell off the wagon and landed in a large vat of cheese. I’ve been swimming in the bubbly goo ever since) Sometimes when I’m out I just kind of make the best choices I can and hope for the best. Fingers crossed, don’t ask- don’t tell. I mean, it’s not like I’m ordering a bacon cheeseburger or anything but I’m not necessarily as thorough as I could be. Let’s just say that you might not want me working in your quality control department. “Yeah, sure that mascara seems fine. What do you mean the monkeys’ eyes are burning?” Not that I’m for testing on animals. I might be confusing things here…

Part of me wants to go back to or call the restaurant and ask. As if I’ll be spared some horrible fate if they tell me that there wasn’t chicken broth in there. “No, take the test again, I’m SURE it’ll be negative this time.”

When the truth is that it doesn’t matter. Whether the potatoes were vegetarian or not, I ate them. I’d like to think that I learned a valuable lesson here today and this will lead me to be more conscientious and thoughtful in the future. But I’m sure someday soon I’ll find myself accidentally eating shrimp.