Unfiltered Story #310548

As part of my job, I prep stadium food for the concessions stands. My least favorite part of this job is wrapping hot dogs, since after a while the smell gets to me. One of my coworkers has noticed my discomfort—the smell is making me nauseous and I’m relieved to go on my lunch break. He gets his break a few minutes later than me.

Coworker: *not unkindly* “What part about the hot dogs bothers you so much?”

Me: “The smell. After a while, it just makes me nauseous.”

Coworker: “Is it because you’re vegan?”

I glance at my lunch—a bag of chips, a prepackaged Swiss and turkey sandwich with the name of the contents plastered across the wrapper, and a boxed chocolate milk covered in a brown and white cowhide pattern.

Me: “No.”

He then asked if I was vegetarian. I ended up having to explain to him the mess that is my body’s aversions to certain types of meat, which can be incredibly specific depending on texture, temperature, and level of processing. At least he wasn’t rude.