I have no issues with people who decide to eat healthy and take care of themselves. Be a vegan or someone who only eats space food for all I care. Knock yourself out with those Pilates and trampoline classes you learned about from that cool girl who works at your favorite kale and smoothie co-op.
But as with all things, don't dare impose your belief system on me.
Especially when you're delusional enough to believe that a shitty hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant can cater to your macrobiotic menu.
Meet Renee and Kyle, a A CROSSFIT COUPLE. They WORK OUT EVERYDAY and have a "cheat day" once a week.
Now, in terms of CrossFit, I have many friends who are big fans, who've seen the results, who apply the teachings appropriately to their lives but not to the point of obsession. I respect that.
And then there are obnoxious people who do stupid shit like have "Crossfit weddings," because nothing says "We're secure in our love for each other" like making people watch you do burpies and kettlebells in lieu of cake and cocktails.
So Renee and Kyle, drenched in sweat and clothed in LuLuLemon garments that would constrict a piece of stationery, let alone a human body, made it clear that they had just WORKED OUT.
"I am soooooo ready for a margarita!!!!!!!" Renee said with endorphin-laced enthusiasm.
"Uhh!!! We RAN here!!!" Kyle informed me with the abrasive alacrity of a children's theater performer.
"I had to take a Lyft because I forgot at which bar I left my car last night," I said for no reason.
"I wanna do that 'Fresh' margarita," Renee said. "The one with only fresh lime juice, agave nectar, and silver tequila?"
"Sure," I said.
"Wait," she said. "You know which one I mean, right? I can't do ANY mixers or high fructose corn syrup. You're sure it's the organic one?"
"It's not advertised as 'organic,'" I corrected her with aplomb. "It is, however, made with natural ingredients."
"Oh, okay," she said. "We'll take two!"
I returned with the beverages.
"Oh, oh oh..." she said. "There's salt on these glasses."
Correct, way to identify a noun! Now, can you tell me what that metallic thing is with the prongs that I want to stab you with?
"Yep," I said. "They've always come with salt."
"Well," Kyle said, "We don't do salt. Makes us bloated."
"Ahhh, gotcha," I said. "Well you came to the right place then - a Mexican restaurant."
I returned with the saltless drinks. Kyle attempted to order.
"Hey I have a question," he said.
"What would you recommend that's not too heavy on dairy, fat, sodium, or red meat?"
"The Urth Cafe," I replied. They didn't laugh. "You could do a grilled chicken breast with beans and rice, or grilled veggies?"
"Yeah, we'll take two of those!!!!" Renee said. "But you're sure they're made with all organic ingredients?"
"Nooo, I'm sure that's not the case at all actually," I said. "Guys, the healthiest thing here is our bottled water. I'm not sure how healthy you can eat here."
"Ahhhhhhhh, okay," they said, deflated.
"We just..." he started, like I gave a shit. "We're really committed to CrossFit. Have you heard of it?"
"Ever tried it?"
"Do you work out?"
"You should give it a try sometime," he said.
"Sure. I'll be right back with your chicken."
They were disappointed with their entrees and gave me 10 minutes' worth of suggestions for how I - a lone server with no authority in terms of menu decisions - could improve the menu for "all the health nuts who surely want to eat here?!?"
After my shift I went to the gym. I harnessed my irritability and had a great workout, one that I later rewarded with beer from the bottle and peanut butter from the jar. I might not have two percent body fact, but I wasn't Kyle or Renee, and that was fit enough for me.