My Significant Other has strange eating habits. Let’s call him Fang. Wait. I think someone else already used that name so I'll call him Marty. Anyway, I’m not sure how he’s lived so long. The way he eats defies conventional medical wisdom and if he ever went to a doctor I’m sure he’d be read the Riot Act. For your edification here it is. The real Riot Act of Great Britain of 1714.
If say persons to the number of 12 or more unlawfully, riotously, and tumultuously assemble together to the disturbance of the public peace and being required by any Justice by proclamation in the King’s name in the exact form of the Riot Act, I, George I, to disperse themselves and peaceably depart, shall to the number of 12 or more unlawfully, riotously and tumultuously remain or continue together for an hour after such proclamation shall be guilty of a felony.
(The following must be said out loud)
Our Sovereign Lord the King chargeth and commandeth all persons, being assembled, immediately to disperse themselves, and peaceably to depart to their habitations, or to their lawful business, upon the pains contained in the act made in the first year of King George, for preventing tumults and riotous assemblies. God Save the King!
So you can see that we've taken some license in the way we now use the phrase. We've stretched it out to go a lot farther but that's OK. That's how language is. It's very flexible and that's the way it should be. However, I find that it's sometimes hard to keep up but then that's me.
Let's get back to the subject. In Marty’s case the doctor’d be telling him to quit what he’s doing, go home immediately and start being a good boy. But he won’t go to the doctor and even if read the Act he’d still say “I eat what I like.” Kind of defiant but we're not in 18th century England so he feels safe.
At lunch today we discussed what he would serve if he had a café:
Café Marty Menu
Iceberg Lettuce Salad - a lot of thousand Island Dressing, a lot of Baco Bits, a lot of Cheese & Garlic Croutons, a few tomatoes, a few raisins.
Cheeseburger - plain, dry, nothing on it. Just Cheddar cheese.
Twice Baked Pepperoni Pizza – bake it once and then bake it again until it’s slightly burned
Market Steak (any steak except filet) - very well done (meat should be crispy)
Bacon, burned (see above)
Chicken Fried Steak (again, see above)
White French Bread (bread should be soft) with butter or margarine
This café will be very popular with children at and above the age where they can sit up by themselves. Children through puberty and maybe a bit beyond. I have this on good faith because we once went to a restaurant and when he ordered the burger the waitress shrieked “Are you my son?” Well, she didn’t shriek but she almost did.
Unfortunately his café probably won’t do very well and not because the menu is so odd. It won’t do well because children of this age usually don’t have money. It’s a sad fact. And they won’t be able to coerce their parents to go. I can think of one way it might work but it’s a stretch. It would rely on parents who don’t feel the need to supervise their children. One half of the café would cater to the children and the other half to the parents. There would be Marty’s menu and a parent’s menu. There would be an eye level barrier between the two halves so both groups of patrons won’t be grossed out by what the other group is consuming. This way everybody can be happy. We'll have Marty keep an eye on the children’s side. We wouldn’t want to subject him to disgusting things like spinach salad and other types of poisonous vegetables. He’ll be in hog heaven and if he’s happy I’m happy.