I just don't get hippies. I am cool with the "love everyone" stuff, have been known to hug a tree or two (maybe even some heavy petting) and enjoy not showering for days at a time. But there are certain things I just don't get.
Like Happy Beans.
I am a country boy - which means at least one thing on my plate should have been breathing at some point. Dead animals. I eat dead animals. And it is delicious. The lady friend? Not so much. She has a bad case of the vegetarian. She looooves chlorophyll. This being the case, we sometimes struggle to find places we both enjoy to eat.
So Monday morning we awoke after a long night of Busch Light and Mario Kart (classy) and set forth to find breakfast. She recommended a little place around the block and I am allergic to decisions so it sounded perfect to me. Then I opened the menu - the first item?
What the hell are happy beans? Don't throw an adjective in front of a boring vegetable to make me eat it. What next? Is someone going to come out of the kitchen and pretend my carrots are an airplane and I need to open the hatch?
Because that would be awesome.