I have a colleague at work who eats no gluten. She has told me this fact many times. She and her daughter are both ‘highly’ allergic. (her term for it)
One day, at a lunch meeting, I see her cramming — descriptive verb, not bitchy — a third of a wheat baguette into her mouth.
“I thought you were allergic to gluten,” I said, watching the carnage.
“Oh, no,” she said. “It doesn’t bother me when there’s lots of butter on it.”
“The what?” I thought. What I said was actually bitchy:
“Oh, so you’re just a tourist then.”
Not a lot of conversation with that person since then. It could have been worse. I could have said “Acting all ‘g’winnie is not going to make you be more like her.”
A friend sent me this:
Here’s another. Ask a a gluten fashionista/o this question:
If you want to know what a gluten allergy looks like, give me some gluten, and I’ll puke on your shoes. I like being unambiguous in my presentations.
Cripes. No wonder servers in restaurants can be so hostile.
