I was in line at the grocery store the other day and there was a couple behind me– some cutesy teens, you know the type, always handsy and affectionate in public, it’s like GET A FUCKING ROOM OR AT LEAST UPGRADE IT TO FULL-ON FUCKING IN THE GROCERY STORE SO I CAN SWITCH FROM JEALOUSY TO AROUSAL but anyway my point is they were having a conversation and I was eavesdropping.
The girl was teasing the guy about his hatred of pita bread and hummus. She’s all, “Why do you hate this chickpea goodness so, my dear?” And he was like, shrug, “I’m a flavorist.”
“Excuse me, what? A flavorist?”, she asks, seeking explanation for this obviously made up thing.
Him: “Like, you know, I prefer food with flavors.”
HE WAS SERIOUS YOU GUYS. HE SERIOUSLY MADE A THING OUT OF PREFERRING FOOD WITH FLAVORS.
Jesus Riverdancing Christ, what next? People who “prefer air that has oxygen in it”?