One of my best friends is named Javier.
(Disclaimer: His name is not really Javier).
One night, Javier and I were having dinner. I had a parmigiana, in case you were wondering.
It was quite delicious. The two of us are mates from our school days, and along with Moffatt, a third member of our clan (yes, his real name is ACTUALLY Moffatt), we rarely get the chance to catch up as a trio.
What with life, etc.
With a beer in one hand and the other resting atop the table, Javier announced, with unashamed pride and fearless abandon, that he is a flexitarian.
“You’re… you’re a what?” I reply.
“A flexitarian,” he says, with a tone that scoffs at my non-flexitarian ways.
Now. We all know of some superbly kooky diets out there. Pescatarianism. Hardcore veganism. That branch of lactose intolerance where they eat ice cream and also cheese.
But behold. I present to you, the flexitarian manifesto.
“I’m a vegetarian, but sometimes I eat meat.”
The waiter drops a plate of grilled asparagus and olive oil down in front of Javier. It stands out starkly from the parmigiana and crispy chips in front of Moffatt and I.
"So wait," I say. "You only eat vegetables? Doesn't that make you vegetarian?"
"Right now, yes," he says. "But I had a lamb burger for lunch."
"Had a lamb burger."
"So you're not vegetarian."
"I kind of am. Flexitarian."
Listen: Some people who claim to be gluten free are definitely lying about it. (Post continues after audio.)
The problems with flexitarianism, you see, are infinite. The most prominent one, of course, being that it already has a name.
Dinosaurs stomped around millions of years ago eating both plants and animals. I guess that makes them flexi-fu*king-tarians.
The term 'flexitarian' also does a huge discredit to, you know... real vegetarians.
It's basically vegetarianism without the not-eating-meat part.
I'm calling bullsh*t on it.
Do you know a flexitarian? Are you one yourself? Please explain to us in the comments below why this is a thing.