I guess it was around age 35 when I stopped trying to be enticed and instead, allowed myself to be convinced.
Up to that point, everything needed to have a sensuality, an obvious value or a pleasure related to it in order to grab my interest.
To put it bluntly, a stick had to come along a poke my lust–whether a lust for food, romance, power or even work–to get me revved up and ready to go.
Yes, I needed to be enticed.
So in that time–those “salad days”–when I ordered a salad, I always got a mix of Thousand Island and Blue Cheese dressing. Why?
- Because I loved the taste.
- I loved the rich, thick texture.
- And I think, secretly, I was enthralled by the number of calories.
But then when I reached 35, I started thinking about my mortality. Death is highly unlikely when you’re a kid. But death lurks in your late thirties, and even though it’s not prominent, it is still evident.
It was at that point that I realized my choice of salad dressings was contrary to my good health. So I investigated other choices.
The one suggested to me more often than any other was balsamic vinegar. “Low in calories, good for your tummy and a promoter of excellent digestion.”
When I tasted it, I wanted to run out of the room. It was not creamy. It was not delicious. It was intrusive. Yes, that’s the word.
But since I was trying to move out of a climate of enticement, I allowed myself to be convinced that this dressing was to my betterment.
To this day, when I go to a restaurant and they don’t have lower calorie options, I will order it–not because it’s enticing, but because I finally am convinced.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix
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