She’s A 10, But She Has Food Allergies
My girl is fine and I mean, fine. She is an absolute work of art. I’m not talking about a Pollock. — my girl is more like a Monet or Georgia O’Keefe. She’s got these beautiful eyes, this voluminous hair, and her body, well let’s just say, it’s exactly as the 2002 America Ferrera movie describes. My girl is a 10 in any book, but the problem is, she’s got food allergies.
Because my girl is fine as hell, I like to show her off and be seen with her. The issue is she’s got these food allergies so we can’t ever go out to eat. I’ll be like, “Let’s grab dinner out,” and she’ll be like “Where?” and I’ll be like “Somewhere good” and then she’ll be like “Well, they need to have gluten-free dairy-free options for me.” So then I’m spending the next couple of hours researching the menu, looking for food that won’t constipate my fine-ass girl. After some searching, I’ll eventually find some places where she could actually eat it. But then she’s always like “I don’t want that kind of food,” or “that place is too far away,” or “Jason said that place was bad.” So then I keep looking some more, but before long it’s too late. My girl has already prepared a low FODMAP meal, drank her approved portion of wine, and gone off to call Jason in her bedroom. Damn these food allergies!
I feel bad for my girl and her dietary restrictions, I do. But it kinda makes me feel like I’m…
