I am not a foodie

My out of town friends hate me. I am sure of this. I know this because whenever any of them come to Chicago, I am the last to know. They don’t call me when they are planning their trip nor do they contact me when they arrive. 

Rather, they text me the night before they leave to tell me what bar they are at and to meet them there if I want to see them before they leave. 


I have witnessed this phenomenon for years and until lately was baffled by the occurrence. Recently, a friend of mine posted on Facebook that they were coming to Chicago and immediately called her to find out if she wanted to hang out. The answer was “no.” When I asked her why not, the answer was clear. “You don’t eat.”


I am not a foodie. In fact, I’m far from it. I hate eating. I find it to be a waste of time and money and the only reason I do it is because if I didn’t, I would die. I wish stores like CVS sold military ATPs. Then I wouldn’t have to eat at all. That doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy certain foods. I mean, if I have to eat, I might as well like it. But I could eat the same thing every meal every day if I had to and not be bothered by it one bit. 


I don’t know why I’m like this. Since most psychosises are attributed to childhood, I’ll assume that growing up in a home with a mother whose only meal choices were top ramen, tuna cakes and beef stew did the trick. Whatever the case may be the result is that I have grown into a man that eats to survive and not for pleasure or for experience. 


And yet, somehow I ended up living in what I believe to be the greatest city in America for food. From Soul vegetarian to Dos Ricco’s Mexican-Asian fusion, Chicago has something for every pallet. Furthermore, there are multiple dining options for every cuisine choice. It’s not uncommon to find two restaurants side by side with the exact same menu. Chicago is a foodie’s Disneyland. 


Being a non-foodie, I have taken for granted that I live in an amazing smorgasbord of food choices. I have also lost sight of the fact that people come here to bask in those choices. (I know what you’re thinking, Taste of Chicago, duh. But I don’t go for the food. I go for the free concerts.) 


I understand why my friends don’t call me when they come to town. Chicago is a great place for food and when it comes to food I know nothing like Jon Snow. I don’t know where that restaurant you heard of is and even if I did, there a good chance I haven’t eaten there so I can’t tell you anything about the place.  If I was a foodie, I wouldn’t hang out with me either.


Luckily, Chicago is also great place for beer. And I love beer. So, yeah, call me when you hit the bar.