“I appear to be drinking a cup of warm piss,” I reflect on leaving the kitchen area at work. It’s pale yellow-green in a white cup. It’s green tea.
It’s part of my on-going war of attrition with my friend Maria brought about through drinking a bottle of Turkish red wine each in Mangals and then initially taking a vow that for 30 days she wouldn’t drink any booze while I wouldn’t eat meAt or fish. My part of the bet was upgraded (such is the way of drunks) to “leading a vegan lifestyle” and then lately, after I’d done some research (and decided I wasn’t going to buy a) vegan shoes and b) a wool-free suit), downgraded to “eating a vegan diet” for 30 days.
So far it’s going well but then all I’ve done so far is eat porridge with soya milk for breakfast, a baked potato with margarine and baked beans for lunch and two apples and a sharon fruit ion-between. I went to the local health food shop and bought a box of “Fruit, Nut and Seed Bars” this afternoon (“gluten-free; wheat-free; dairy-free; vegetarian; vegan”) which were a) pretty horrible and b) very expensive. Luckily they also seem to be quite filling as tonight is the-place-I-work’s 25th anniversary staff party. The posh one for the high-ups and the industry bigwigs was last week, this one is (I imagine) a drunken booze-fest fuelled by Breezers, slammers, shots, vodka fountains and other assorted niceties. I won’t be eating at the do as I can’t guarantee the provenance of the canapes and my sketchy research reveals that spirits are safe for vegans but the use of animal-derived fining agents in much wine and beer rules them out without more detailed work on my part.