Bacon Is The Most Disgusting Thing In The Universe — There, I Said It, And I’ll Fight You

I respect unpopular opinions. Love cargo shorts? Wear ‘em. Hate brunch? Honestly, same. Think The Beatles are overrated? I disagree, but I’m glad you’re doing you. Perhaps I respect unpopular opinions so much because I hold one of the most unpopular opinions ever. I’m talking so unpopular that you’ll probably be offended and immediately try to change my mind, because that’s what everybody else does. Ready? Here goes: I hate bacon.

Yes, I’ve tasted it. And no, you’re not going to change my mind. I don’t care that you, your aunt, or your favorite diner makes the best bacon on Earth; I assure you I will dislike it. I hate the way bacon looks…

smells…

and tastes…

I hate its consistency. Why is it both limp and crisp at the same time?

I hate the way it sounds when it cooks and I hate when it curls up in the pan.

Stop trying to be cute, bacon. You’re a shriveled little monochromatic monster and I see right through you. And don’t even get me started on the way your smell lingers in the kitchen, on clothes, and in hair. I feel close to vomiting after writing all of that. Are you happy? Do you believe me yet?

Once more for those in the back: I hate bacon.

Now, as a rule, I try to use the word “hate” sparingly. It’s so negative and our society uses it far too liberally. But I can say with 1000% certainty that I absolutely hate bacon. I abhor it. I hate it so much that all of my close friends and loved ones refer to it as the “B word” — a term we will be using from now on to describe this abomination of pig — because I even hate how the word itself sounds.

How far will I go to avoid B word, you ask? Extremely far. I won’t order a dish at a restaurant that comes with B word, because even though I could politely ask, “Can you please hold the B word?”, I don’t trust that the kitchen will actually hold the B word.

I’ve been burned before, reader. I was a good sport about it, but let’s just say that my Valentine’s Day dinner in 2007 was a rocky one. I can’t even do the “let’s just get B word on half” routine with pizza, because I assure you, I will be able to taste it on my half. It’s just too close for comfort. And don’t even try to pull the “you can just pick it out later” act with me.

Once B word touches food, it’s tainted.

You must be fun at parties, you’re thinking. I am fun at parties. Just not pizza parties.

Here’s a list of traditionally controversial foods I would rather eat than B word:

— Oysters

— Black licorice

— Mayonnaise (with a spoon, baby!)

— Cilantro

— Pineapple on pizza

— Brussels sprouts, although I’m actually not too fond of those, either

— ANYTHING

I know what else you’re thinking: I bet you’re one of those people who walks around bragging about how much they hate B word.

First, let’s get one thing straight: I would never insult a host for serving it, request that someone don’t eat it, or make someone feel bad for liking it. I don’t see hating B word as something to brag about. I’d rather not talk about it at all, because I simply dislike it that much.

I have a thousand things I would rather talk about than my extreme dislike of B word. But you, B word truthers, forced my hand here. You think I want to talk about it? I avoid it at all costs. I can’t even type the full word. But inevitably, it comes up. Because people have opinions about B word, and need me to know why mine are wrong. B word enthusiasts are almost even worse than B word itself. @ me. (Please don’t. It would be so incredibly pointless.)

if you have bacon pic.twitter.com/dmzTpTiHUy

— massimo (@massimo94347553) October 15, 2018

B word wouldn’t be so bad if people would just let me live my life hating it.

But for some reason, people go absolutely nuts when they find out I won’t eat it. It actually offends them that I find B word to be anything but the most delicious food in creation. “How can you not like B word?!” they cry. “It’s B word!” To which I reply, “I don’t know, because I don’t like it? I don’t examine your refrigerator and question your life choices for hating [insert whatever food they don’t like].” With all due respect, I just don’t care.

Why are people so protective of foods, and B word in particular? I may never know.

If you think about it, it’s quite illogical that anyone who loves B word would get upset about me not liking it. If I don’t eat B word, that just means more B word for you, dummies. It’s simple logic! Leave me alone! I’m doing you a service! Also, why do you care so much?! You didn’t invent B word! This is not an offensive thing!

I’m guessing there’s an unpopular opinion you hold that people don’t understand.

If it’s about food, you probably feel it twice as deeply. (Why is that? We’re super protective of our tastes, I guess.) Whatever your unpopular opinion is, I respect it. But please, let me live my B word-hating life. I’m just a girl, standing in front of a menu, still trying to heal wounds from that one time Spaghetti Carbonara tricked me.