A breakup letter to beans
Beans.
I used to love them. But I had to kill them.
No that’s not it.
Beans. Beans.
The Musical Fruit.
The more you eat, the more you disgust me.
Get out of my life!
I’m sorry, I should back up.
In February of 2021, I contracted COVID-19 and, for the most part, lost my senses of taste and smell. At first smells were evident, just not loading properly. You know the smell of cut grass? When I used to smell it, I would remember summers in any of my childhood homes, hating having to scoop the dog poop first, and wanting to go back inside away from the sun. For the summer of 2021 when I smelled freshly cut grass, I only got the hint that something plant-related was happening. What I smelled was, as close as I can describe, an old melon. Mouthwash and toothpaste had the opposite flavor in my mouth for several months. An earthy, almost opposite of mint flavor was what I got. But that was 2021.
Now, as I write in January of 2022, I smell something once every couple days. I taste less. Oranges are just water to me. Spicy Cheez-Its made my nose run and eyes water, but I didn’t know why. Oh right, spicy. It says so right on the box from which I shoveled several handfuls directly into my stupid blank mouth.
This brings me back to the beans. I love you, beans. But you have to get out of my life. You have the worst texture, and I should know. When you’re constantly trying to lose weight, you start a lot of “life change” diets that you can’t stick to. Well, that’s awfully assumptive of me, so I’ll just say it’s been my experience. The best one I ever tried was found in a Tim Ferriss book “The Four Hour Body.” I tried it 10 years ago and lost close to 30 pounds over the course of a few months. All I remember eating were egg whites, salsa, and so many beans. Pinto, black, and garbanzo were my favorites. I’d put a mix of two of the three in a big salad for lunch 6 days a week, and would hate the way eating it felt before I was finished 6 days a week. But I did it. And then eventually the beans would grate on me too much and I’d stop eating them. And before you know it it’s been a couple months and I’m completely off the wagon. Under the wagon. The wagon has gotten loose from my control and I have somehow run myself over. Aaaaaand I’m 240 pounds again. Up from 220. After being down from 250. You know what, I’m simply oversharing at this point and this doesn’t matter.
I have to exile beans from my face. When all I have is texture to enjoy food, beans offer me nothing but insult. Somehow the Absolute Zero of my taste-buds meets with the Absolute Zero of the beans’ enjoyable texture and produces a net negative.
For anyone curious, no, I have not taken any active measures to regain my senses. Complaining about it has been more fun than exerting any effort into caring for my own well-being.
Beans Beans Beans, my Darling.
Don’t chew a single one
BEANS BEANS BEANS, MY DARLING!
STAY AWAY FROM MY MOUTH!
I’LL BE SEEING YOU AGAIN
I’LL BE SEEING YOU IN HELLLLLLL!
