I am a raging carnivore.
Before you get all technical on me and do the dietary equivalent of a Ray Comfort “evangelism cornering” (as I like to call it) where you convince me that because I once ate a vegetable that I am in fact an omnivore (by my own admission), hear me out. While I do enjoy vegetables, I’d gladly give them up for a ribeye every meal. I just can’t afford it, and I might die (happily, and full of red meat, ushered into the presence of the Lord!) if I ate that much beef.
But the fact remains that I really enjoy the meat aspect of meal time. So it made it really awkward when I didn’t get the memo about a support appointment being a BYO meat affair.
We scheduled the appointment over the phone, and I must have been distracted by the fact that he referred to the cookout as a barbecue when he invited me over.
[start rabbit trail]
As accurately demonstrated by this video, barbecue is never a verb.
I’m willing to budge on my eschatology, and grant that post-pre-millenialism is plausible.
I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt when we disagree over the interpretation of Hebrews chapter 6.
But I am not budging on this: (no matter how many dictionaries you cite or people you ask) “barbecue” is a noun. Furthermore, it is a noun that can never be replaced by the noun “grill.” Barbecue is meat.
We can argue about what constitutes barbecue sauce, and whether or not vinegar or tomatoes should be involved, but it’s not a grill, or a verb.
So when you invite me over to Barbecue, expect one of two things: I think you are having me over to a big plate of pulled pork, (and talking really weirdly about it) or that you are inviting me to Barbecue, NC.
[end rabbit trail]
I first figured out something was wrong when we showed up and there were more than just the hosts there. We were clearly at a summertime cookout (neighborhood? church small group? not sure yet) and every male involved was standing by the grill. As I got closer, I noticed that one guy was holding a bag full of pre-pattied hamburger meat, and another guy was tearing into a container of hot dogs.
My finely tuned BYOM party indicator was going off like crazy. This was a bring your own meat, and I had neglected to bring meat. I was faced with just two options: fake veganism or fake a fast.
Or you can meet somewhere in the middle and lie about doing the Daniel fast. (disclaimer: I have no idea what the Daniel fast is, and one google search gave me the impression that it was a diet that involves no meat. Feel free to correct me in the comments.) It was a gametime decision, and I’m not proud of it, but I opted for a double helping of potato salad, and mumbling something about the Daniel fast before quickly changing the subject.
And the entire evening went by without even a mention of us being there for financial support.
On the bright side, that was really good potato salad.