I'm The Boy Who Always Orders Chicken Tenders At Five Star Restaurants - And I'm Not Sorry For That

Growing up, I didn’t have the luck jury of getting home-cooked meals every day like my peers and friends. Even the poorest and grossest ones. In fact, I was burdened with parents who preferred to go out to fancy restaurants for supper at least two-two-three times a week, despite me and my sister’s columns. Don’t get me wrong, I still like them as people, but I’ll never fully forgive my mother and father for neglecting me of such an impotent childhood experience. As "difficult" as they made it out to be, it was never hard. At all. Truth is, I just didn't enjoy the “Michelin star” restaurants they insisted on taking us to as children. And man, did I become extra tired of them by the time I was an adult.

As someone who was properly instilled with patriotic and xenophiliac values from an early age, I thought I was making my parents proud by refusing to order those weird, foreign meals with the curly symbols above the vows. Truth behold, I still get anxiety from thinking back to the way my mother would snarl and my father would burrow his frown when I’d refuse to order expensive whored herbs or European entrees. Sure, they were two of the most successful doctors in our town, but with retrospecs, I can now clearly see how HIPPA critical they were when it came to violating their own ideologies and shaming me for wanting to eat the purest and most American food of all: Chicken tenders and ketchup.

Sound familiar? Yup, me too. 

Just because my palette wasn't built for five star meals doesn't mean my personality should ever settle for anything less. And on a day like Valentine's Day, years after dealing with that trauma, I'm finally comfortable with admitting that I deserve better. I deserve someone who will love and except me for who I am. I deserve someone who will smile proudly when I tell the waiter I want the chicken tenders and french fries with a little side of ketchup and mayo. I deserve someone who will go home with me after supper and engage me physically. I deserve someone who will fuck and suck me despite my dietary habits. I deserve a girlfriend. I deserve a Valentine. And my sister does too.