Meet is murder

It was not the worst of dates, but perhaps, not the best of dates either.

She was quirky, into animals, and well cute. After the first awkward hour in the pub we ambled the town to look for a curry house, passing an endless parade of fast food joints along the way: McMurder, Kentucky Fried Cruelty, Murder King.

"So, you're a veggie?" I said.

Too bloody right she was. Meat wasn't just murder, it was torture. It was cruel and it was unusual. Why do people even have to eat meat nowadays? I can understand back in the past, but now we have science, and soya!

I advanced the theory that go back far enough and man was pretty much veggie, living off fruits, nuts and seeds scavanged from the land. It was only after tool use that we turned to meat, and the calorie surplus that produced allowed time away from farming to devote to nobler pursuits. To art, to learning, to culture, and that's what drove our brains to grow and one day allowed us to develop the technology to print "Stop the Cruelty" bumper stickers.

That, apparently, was bollocks.

In the curry house she ordered something with chickpeas. I had chicken.

Later, as I drove her back to her car, she hummed the theme to The Great Escape.

I tried not to read too much into this, nor the twin tracks of rubber she left on the tarmac as she left.

Next day and it was bacon for breakfast.

Fucking sweet.

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This post was written months ago. Being the hippocrite that I am was waiting to see if there was a chance of a second date before posting...