You aren’t really expecting much from this.

You know a little bit about Kelly, actually. You see her at Pilates pretty frequently. Her form isn’t great, but she has enthusiasm, and… Well, that’s what counts, you suppose. She’s not terrible – some one-on-one instruction would fix a lot of her alignment issues. Maybe some beginner yoga, too, for flexibility and shoulder strength.

Ugh. Chill out, Hailey. You aren’t trying to sell her six months of private lessons, you’re supposed to be relaxing. This is a date, remember?

Well, it would be a date if Kelly was here. And she’s ten minutes late, like at Pilates, which isn’t so awful, but you’re getting kind of antsy sitting around in one spot. You skipped Saturday afternoon cardio for this. 

It’s fine, it’s not a big deal. Deep breath. Focus on what you can control.

After a few minutes of mind-clearing, the restaurant’s bell jingles, and everything smells a little more like melon body spray. That’ll be Kelly. You put on a big smile, and turn toward the doorway. Kelly looks around for a minute before she sees you waving.

“Hailey! Hey! It’s Kelly, it’s so nice to meet you! Sorry I was late, the parking out here is crazy, I’m like five streets down.”

“Hey, yeah, no problem!” you say. “No worries, it’s always pretty slammed here. There are maybe three good places in town with actual vegan options, and this is the only one open for lunch.” A lot of people are here from the Crossfit gym down the street. Amidst that sea of high ponytails, toned shoulder muscles, and black leggings, Kelly’s loose blonde hair and yellow sundress stick out like a sore thumb. 

She’s definitely pretty, though, in kind of a sorority-girl way. She has a nice tan, soft blonde hair, and straight, white teeth. Really full lips, with what looks like a sparkly pink gloss? And damn, her boobs. They’re so soft-looking, and they’re huge. If those are implants, you have to ask who did those.

She sits down with you. “Did you order yet? I haven’t been here, so I’m not sure what’s good.” She starts looking over the menu. 

“It’s mostly all good here. The sprout salad is one of my favorites, maybe the red lentil dal if you want something to really fill you up. Skip the fried tofu dishes, though, they’re kind of flavorless.” 

“Got it.” She nods, and waves a waiter over. “What would you like?”

You recognize this waiter, and you think he recognizes you. You hope he doesn’t start anything about the time you found egg whites in your vegan scramble and demanded a comped meal. “Sprout salad, please, water with lemon, raspberry vinaigrette on the side.”

He politely doesn’t say anything, and writes your order down. Phew. “And for you, miss?”

Kelly looks thoughtful. “This here?” She points, and the waiter looks over her shoulder. “Dal gosht? What’s that?”

“That’s our goat and lentil spiced curry, with red lentils, spinach and chickpeas. It’s one of our best sellers.”

Kelly grins. “That sounds great! I’ll have that!” 

“Excellent choice, and would you like a side of rice or naan?”

You don’t hear Kelly’s answer. You feel kind of sick. 

The waiter leaves, and Kelly turns to you. “Thanks for the recommendation! So there are a ton of people in really nice leggings here, right? It’s not just me? I don’t even recognize some of these brands, but the guy over there has Lululemon shorts in Unicorn Tears! I stalked the app for days waiting for that color to restock, but-”

You don’t care at all! You’re going to have to sit here while someone eats chunks of animal muscle in front of you! The meat cubes are bigger than you! Those were part of an alive animal, and now she’s going to eat a thing made of flesh, that’s basically the same as you or her. The whole world is okay with this kind of thing. Fucking unbelievable. 

You notice Kelly pause, and look at you. “Uh, yeah, definitely,” you say, hoping that’s a good enough answer; you’re way too hungry to just leave. And Kelly probably isn’t doing this to hurt you. She just hasn’t thought about what eating meat means. In fact, you have a real chance to do some good here, as long as you can tamp down your nausea. 

That seems to have been an okay answer, since Kelly accepts it without question. “I knew it! I knew there had to be some way for instructors to skip the line! Actually, stop me if this question is rude, but how much does workout gear cost for you? It’s gotta be way less, right?” 

You get this question all the time, usually from giants in your classes or over Zoom. It’s nice of her to take an interest. “Eh, there’s not as much of a discount as you think. Which sucks, because I would obviously love a discount, but it turns out the machines and labor for the precision sewing and machining bump the cost back up. I’m paying about 80% of what you are, actually.”

“Aw, that sucks. The same for bras too? Because-” she gestures to her chest, jiggling it slightly - “I definitely pay extra for these babies, but maybe the difference between, like, a few millimeters means you don’t get the crazy overcharges?” 

You could go on about that for days. You chat with Kelly about fashion for a while - what’s good, what used to be good and is now just overpriced, the best thrift stores you’ve found in the city. It’s shallow, but comfortable, and it eases your mind. Then the waiter brings the food, and all those good feelings evaporate. 

There’s a giant bowl sitting in front of Kelly: a thick lentil and spinach stew, studded with huge chunks of seared goat cubes. The gamy smell overpowers even the Indian spice mix, and you feel stomach acid starting to rise up your throat. 

“This looks delish!” Kelly says, and dives in. She starts with a chunk of meat that’s at least six or seven times your size. She spears it with her fork, and takes a bite. Her white teeth divide the cube like it’s nothing: she chews, and you can watch it come apart, muscle fibers separating, staining her lips with meat juice. Her colossal pink tongue emerges like a hungry snake, and licks her lips clean. Then she goes for another one. This one’s even larger. It’s like watching a wolf strip a corpse clean. 

You force your head down and do your best to focus on the sprouts. Tangy, safe, nourishing. Feel the energy start in your stomach, and radiate outward, to make you stronger. Deep breaths. 

After a twenty-minute-long torture exercise, Kelly slumps backward and moans. “Oh my god, that was amazing, I ate way too much. I can see why you like this place!” 

She didn’t even finish it. You aren’t sure you can make conversation next to the remaining meat chunks. 

“Hey,” you pipe up, quietly, “why don’t we get out of here?”