diamonds and chicken parts

toothpicks, pt. 2
Image by “Cowboy” Ben Alman via Flickr

The lovey Julie (whose blog reaps far greater rewards than mine) invited me to a private viewing of the new yellow diamond collection at Tiffany tonight. Me, Julie, Abby, and 100K worth of yellow diamonds. There is nothing like sitting in a private office at Tiffany & Co. draped in diamonds looking like a homeless person. Almost as good as trying on a 30K dollar ring with chewed off nails and bloody cuticles. Classy, Caroline, classy.

I was walking back through the mall (to FINALLY go buy a new cell phone with the hubs) when I stopped at the food court to go to the bathroom. Coming back through the food court I noticed one of the Asian places was handing out free samples. You know the ones. Little pieces of chicken of toothpicks. No biggie, right?

Wrong.

Suddenly it hit me. What do you think that chicken would have to say if someone told him that THAT was his fate. It’s not the same with people. We are buried. I’m not concerned that someone is going to make my belly into a breadless, cheese and bacon sandwich, or parse me apart and give me away for free on a toothpick. I’ll go on to do something noble. Give an eye to a bb gun victim or something. I just couldn’t imagine how I would feel if someone told me (the chicken) what the big plan was. A family bbq? Fine. Chicken Pot Pie? Certainly! Free sample on a toothpick. Fuck no.

Writing it out like this makes me feel like a crazy person, but I honestly thought about it for about an hour. I started to think of all the things I’d be embarrassed to tell animals they became. (And really, free toothpick sample still stands as one of the most disgraceful.) Slim Jims. Can you imagine telling a cow (or is it a pig? neither? both?) that it’s destiny was to be a Slim Jim? That’s like telling a tree that it’s gonna be two ply Charmin.

It’s not vegetarian propaganda, but it’s certainly food for thought. Next time you go to put something in your mouth, as yourself if you’d be proud to become that when you died. Not a bad measure…

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