On avocado toast
There is nothing more cliché than having an avocado toast in the Bay Area. The buttery greenish taste seems to slide through the throat shouting, “San Francisco! San Francisco!” and, if you are not careful, your single loneliness will also be attaching the ‘est’ on cliché in a single bite.
Now, that is extremely unfortunate. As I watch another lonely lady walk into the Walgreens next door, I meditate on my impossibly green and buttery avocado, and I at once thank and curse the devil that invented this. I honestly did not need another cliché addition at this point in life.
According to Wikipedia, there are substantial reports of people eating Avocado Toasts in the Bay Area since 1885. “ In 1915, the California Avocado Association described serving small squares of avocado toast as an hors d’oeuvre”, they say. I despair. Not only am I a cliché, but also an old-fashioned one. If a time machine brought me back to the beginning of the century, I would still carry the embarrassment of my love for the common-place treat, losing any possibility of wearing originality as a personal charm.
Upset, I swallow the rest of the toast. The bread is terrible (Chia bread), but I can feel a grain of salt in my tongue, sliding through with the green beast. It is almost erotic.
According to My Fitness Pal, if I keep on eating Avocado Toast for the next 30 days, I will weight 5 pounds more than I do now. I should care. Last week I penitentially climbed the scale, to find a worrying 181.32 lbs. Damn. I am fat. And yes — of course, I know, and I am permanently on a diet.
But you see, I don’t let my weight define my identity. I am a big lady — in fact. I keep on eating carbs — indeed. I diet — but I nearly not as much as I should. And when I think of myself, I think of my blue eyes, or my straight hair but not my weight.
Once a slim lady said that I was in denial. Maybe. But I don’t care. I am seriously more worried about my love for the cliché avocado toasts than for my extra pounds. These slim people are all unhappy — we all know it.
I am not unhappy, on the other end. And, if I manage to stop the toast, I will also no longer be a cliché.
