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I went to an event where a friend was speaking over the summer.
It was not just a vegan, but worse, a raw vegan dining club.
Instead of just kneeling over the lawn and nibbling on grasses, they has something like a pot luck. I was nearly cast out for not bringing my own bowl and sustainable cutlery.
I ended up going on the spur of the moment and didn't have anything to contribute for the meal, but ended up having some lovely roast chicken courtesy of another attendee there for the speaker who heard the "potluck" and "dining club" parts, but missed out on the "raw vegan." Or perhaps she didn't, and wanted to twist their heads around a little. I liked her a lot.
Most of the entrées looked like mud with slivered raw almonds scattered over them. I think I took a small stalk of broccoli to be polite. The only fruit offering had coconut all over it. Ick (and anaphyllactic shock). And a nice hunk of that chicken.
I also risked banishment by using insect spray instead of slapping and scratching. Fuck that shit. I didn't want malaria from the swamp in the backyard, since they apparently didn't believe in drainage.
Most of the raw vegan dining club members looked like aliens. Thin, wobbly on their stick-like legs, with big eyes and pale gray skin. At least one of them had a distended malnourished belly like the kids in the commercials with Sally Struthers. Totally.
Needless to say, my friend and I hit the first WaWa we came to on the way out of town.
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