A Non-Vegan’s Taste of Veganism

I have taken the irresponsible route in dealing with my lactose intolerance for years: I just continued to eat milk and hoped for the best. The result was very rarely ‘the best.’ More often than not it was ‘the worst.’ Yet, I continued to carry on this foolish lifestyle until my doctor finally had to give me a stern talking to:

“So you have stomach pain when you eat dairy products, correct?”

“Yup. It’s not too great.”

“Then why do you continue to eat dairy?”

*My mind buzzed with incredible thoughts of Phish Food ice cream, gooey fondue globbing onto cubes of cheese, Rhody chocolate milk….  I needed a strong defense to retain these delicacies in my life… And yet….*

“Uhhhh.. you know, for the taste” *awkward, uncomfortable, unconvincing chuckle*

“Yeah, so you’re gonna need to stop doing that or else you’ll be on stomach pills for the rest of your life from all the damage you’ll cause.”

The woman knew how to terrify me: I have an irrational fear of medication–but don’t worry I’m not anti-vax (!!). So, since this tragic encounter I have fully cut dairy out of my life and yes, it is as unfortunate as it sounds (sympathy cards/flowers can be sent to my campus box). The one pro of this entire ordeal is my newfound ability to pass as a vegan.

I’ve gone through the ringer in terms of testing out various animal/environment friendly diets (vegetarian, pescatarian, ovo-vegetarian, pollotarian, flexitarian, need-meat-now-itarian, etc.) but never stuck on veganism. After a month-long stint with veganism this past summer that led to me taking atrociously long naps every day after work, I determined that as much as I detest supporting an industry whose fart production screws up our ecosystem, sometimes my stomach just needs some goddamn meat.

But now, my requirements of “no cheese please” and “daiya cheese” and “cappuccino with soy” lead people I interact with to assume I’m a ~vegan~. So, when I order a tofu sandwich from Blue State, as it’s the only one on the menu without cheese, I receive their amplified kind demeanors. They give me that knowing ‘I respect your veganism’ smile, and practical reverence with the handling of my sandwich. I’ve never heard more love in a voice than when the barista calls out “tofu sandwich for Suzanne.” After one…or maybe two…or maybe a few of these purchases in a week… I could almost convince myself to recommence my vegan lifestyle.

I tried my luck at another Thayer St. staple: Tropical Smoothie Café. While ordering a salad from Tropical Smoothie Café, I made it explicitly clear I did not want any cheese in my salad. Expecting that look of genuine adoration from the cashier, I was a little disappointed to see that the cashier just nodded. I figured he was just internally glorifying me so I left and sat down. But as I scanned my receipt I discovered that the guy had literally written “2x cheese!” I was baffled! I proceeded back to the register to get it sorted out and he assured me it’d be fine he’d tell the kitchen staff. Eventually my salad arrived and I jammed my fork in for a bite and encountered 2x the cheese serving maliciously lining the bottom of my salad. The horror!

I was forced to reconcile this newfound double identity: beloved neighborhood vegan to some and difficult dairy-free customer to others. As a result, my future as a fake vegan will be filled with extensive restaurant analysis to determine where I’ll get the perks and therefore become an annoyingly regular customer and which places (*cough*cough* Tropical Smoothie Café) will get the boot.

Image via Sarah Clapp.

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