A restaurant.
A table.
A friend.
A close friend.
A human.
An animal.
A life.
An honourable life.
A stem.
A bond.
A connection.
A genuine connection.
The familiar comfort.
The breaking glass.
The cheering crowd.
The shrieking child.
The throbbing song.
The countless voices.
Overwhelming chaos.
“What can I get you?”
Snap.
Open.
Present.
Hello Waiter.
A simple question, a complex answer.
Steak for my friend.
Salad for me.
Reality check for everyone.
Suddenly alone.
First, the awkwardness.
The moment of silence.
The broken eye contact.
They know what I know.
Politeness draws us in.
Second, the small talk.
The undeniable undercurrent.
The unspoken disagreement.
They know what I think.
Apprehension pushes us apart.
Third, the excuses.
Species. Hubris.
History? Tradition.
Intelligence… Irrelevance.
Divinity! Superstition.
They know I’m not buying it.
Anxiety for them.
Anxiety for me.
Anxiety for everyone.
Overwhelming chaos.
A moment of silence.
A moment of noise.
A moment of choice.
Choice for me.
Choice for them.
Choice for them.
The familiar trap.
Dissent or dismiss.
Critique or condone.
Challenge or endorse.
Failure… or failure.
Just disengage… it never works.
Just let it go… and eat your plants.
Just-
Just? Hardly…
Another excuse lands. Offered without request. A reminder of trillions in pain.
Please, just let me eat my plants!
Frustration simmers.
Indignation brews.
Patience wears thin.
Their defences grow.
The absurd philosophies.
The baseless ideologies.
The twisted hypotheticals.
Ridiculous distractions.
The tangential topics.
The unrelenting rationalisations.
The blistering prejudice.
All irrelevant.
Dissonance.
Dissonance.
Dissonance.
Endless dissonance.
Enough to fill the room.
Enough to drown the conscience.
Enough to end a life.
The plates arrive.
A body.
A mind.
A soul.
A person.
A life.
Another excuse.
A steak.
A snack.
A meal.
A taste.
A moment.
Enough!
Anger. Malice. Fury.
Where did these come from?
Rage. Indignation. Irritation.
Where is this going?
Bitterness. Disgust. Vitriol.
Where do I put all this?
Overwhelming chaos.
Stop being polite.
Speak the truth.
State the obvious.
“THAT
is a fucking
PERSON!”
Underwhelming simplicity…
Shock, mouth agape.
Discomfort, eyes averted.
Silence… silence.
Wait… what is that… regret? No, it can’t be-
A hint of horror, recognition?
A sliver of disgust, acknowledgement?
A gentle inwards turn, acceptance?
Maybe… just maybe… no… no of course not.
A grimace of disgust, normal.
A frown of contempt, understandable.
A sneer of disapproval, unconditional.
Failure.
My words disperse.
Their defences distract.
Our bond decays.
Snap. Closed. Distant.
No more may be said.
No more will be heard.
No more can be done.
The vegan has done it again.
We cross the line: Politeness must quell passion.
We break the contract: Tribe above the truth.
We disturb the peace: Harmony at all costs.
But far more urgently…
The steak is getting cold.
Originally published by LitVegan on July 5, 2025. Republished to Medium and Patreon.