The New Jerusalem

De-Sire

I don't like eggplant. When i was a younger fellow, i only saw it on tv or in the supermarket, and i thought "wow, that is neat", so pretty, so purple. it was involved in foreign and interesting foods. I remember watching a pair of ladies on PBS making an indian dish with spinach and mustard seeds and eggplant. I wanted to like it. Then i tasted it.

I don't like eggplant. It's bland and awkwardly chawky and porous when raw, soggy and grey when cooked. An attrocious texture and a not-too-appealing flavor. But I feel like *I* am missing out on something, like all these other people know something I don't. I've tried it so many ways: asian, mediterenean, I don't like eggplant parmasian, and that involves both frying something and drenching it in cheese. I cannot express how much that says about my degree of distaste for eggplant.

Like, I dislike flour tortillas (bland, gummy, low in b-vitamins, responsible for widespread diabetes in mexico) but I know why other people like them and I know why I don't like them. Because I am better than them, I can condescend to them. But eggplant, I've never quite understood. Like every time I look at them, the only thing I can think is "what am *I* doing wrong".

I can be very co-dependant in the produce aisle.

The Quality of Mercy

Anytime anyone finds out i'm a lawyer, they always ask "what kind of lawyer". I actually had the opportunity to respond to it with "what kind of whore are you?" to an actual factual sex worker. I love socializing with white slaves.