layers

I used to date a girl that had a strict layering policy. Her family and friends were rarely permitted to mix, unless a thorough background search, personality profile, and physical were all passed with flying colors. The fact that these social layers were seldom allowed to cross over and seep into one another meant that I, as the datee, was rarely given permission to extend beyond my prescribed boundaries. Slowly, I was allowed to meet a few of her friends, but her family had only the foggiest concept of me. To them, I remained a blurry, shadowy figure, much like Bigfoot. They were aware that there might be ‘someone she’s seeing’, but hard evidence was scant…thus my existence was always in question.

And while I’ve never held strict rules about layering my various social acquaintances, assigning them a number and then ranking them accordingly, I can understand the need for layering on some level. This level being food. Because I’m a big believer in the separation of foods upon my dinner plate. Simply put, certain foods should not be permitted to mix. And while those people who constantly fight for food equality will most likely call me a foodist and throw mustard on me as I approach the salad bar, I hold firm to this belief.

When filling my plate, all foods must adhere to their separate sections…though there are exceptions. The baked beans are allowed to co-mingle with the barbequed chicken, and the cole slaw is welcome to rub up against the potato salad…not too much, mind you, but I do allow them a bit of physical contact. But the baked beans and the cole slaw, however, are strictly forbidden to be near each other. And the potato salad is never, ever allowed to be seen associating with the Jell-O.

And nothing is ever allowed to touch a single piece of broccoli. Any contact with this vegetable is immediately punishable by imprisonment within the nearest trash can…starving kids in China or not, no food of mine is permitted to play with the broccoli. Personally, I’ve always felt that the sole purpose of mashed potatoes was to conveniently cover the broccoli, thus giving the impression that it had been eaten, until it could safely be disposed of.

So while I can’t quite grasp the concept of separating the people you know into different layers, I do understand the importance of segregation to some extent. Unfortunately, the relationship didn’t pass the layer test. I ended up being the baked beans and she turned out to be broccoli.