Day 6 and 7 being a vegan on the weekend

On Saturday morning I met friend Hermione for breakfast on the corner of my street at a very vegan friendly café and had home-made muesli with soy milk which I struggled to keep down because could feel the disgusting last nights rum swirling round in my stomach. Also, when you are hungover you want eggs and chips, NOT muesli in soy milk which frankly tastes like woodchips.

Then I packed a bag and went to see Jake in Oxford in town. He wanted me to help him shop for some new jeans. In order to show that I had some enthusiasm for this project I had to pretend that I DIDN’T have the worst hangover in the world and that my brain was NOT haemorrhaging. Every time he went into a dressing room to try jeans on I found a surface and curled up on it and put my face inside my coat to block out the light. Then we found a helpful and quite frankly witty sales assistant and he amused me enough to take my mind off it. ‘Don’t you think Jake has a lovely bum but not in a gay way’ I said. We were having the usual form over function debate, Jake did NOT understand why he should wear uncomfortable jeans that LOOKED good and I could not even get my head around the reverse. ‘Why would he want to look like a Christian in comfortable clothes?’ I demanded of sales man guy. ‘Here’, he said to Jake, ‘these ones are a bit more roomy.’ ‘Don’t give him ideas’ I told sales man guy. Jake said ‘I’m not allowed ideas’. We both nodded solemnly. ‘I had one once, it didn’t work out’ said Jake. We both nodded. ‘He did’ I said, sadly. ‘Never again’.

Then Jake and I went for a pint in the sun and I ordered a vegetarian sausage sandwich. I had to ask them to remove the cheese and mayo but in the end it came out just with lettuce and tomato sauce. Was gross though and Jake had to eat most of it and we tried to work out what the main ingredient in the veggie sausage was. We THINK it might have been nylon.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur and we decided to go out for dinner at the only vegetarian restaurant in Oxford that I had found on the internet. It is called the Pink Giraffe, Giraffe because they are vegetarian and pink because that was apparently the owner's favourite colour. Clearly a homo, I thought happily. It turned out to be a Chinese restaurant that used loads of fake meat products so actually had barbeque non ribs and other non-meat meat. But it also did real meat so Jake was happy. He was also happy because he had drunk a whole bottle of wine. So he ordered proper ribs and I ordered vegan spring rolls, and to my horror they brought them out on the SAME plate. I exclaimed about this when they arrived and Jake gave me a warning look and said ‘you are not a real vegan so you can't complain’. ‘But what if I WAS?!’ I said. He was saying 'sh sh don’t make a scene’ and I said ‘Jake I know what this is really about it's not about me not being a vegan its about you being ENGLISH isn’t it. Go and find a nice queue to stand in’ I said. Then I had mushroom stir-fry and he had a duck curry. I had to have steamed rice as the only fried rice was egg fried rice. I can SO see how this diet would work, ONLY the healthier options are available to you.

The next morning I was able to have baked beans on brown bread for breakfast. For lunch we had rye bread with Moroccan Hummus and spicy lentil soup. Jake went off to read the papers and I spent the afternoon preparing a vegan Mexican style dinner. I made beans and chilli in burritos with guacamole and stuffed also with brown rice and re-fried beans. It was the yummiest but Jake kicked up until I put some cheese and chicken with his. It was a good wholesome Sunday meal but I won't lie I did look longingly at his cheese. Not a metaphor.

Just for the record we did other stuff other than just eat over the weekend I just can't think what it was. One of them was walk around in Jake's new jeans until he said he was too uncomfortable and that he might never have children. What a big giant girl actually NOT a girl he would fail at being a girl at the first hurdle has he TRIED wearing a lacy g-string I wonder? Don’t even TALK to me about not having children when you have one of those itchy bad boys on.