Saturday was an amazing day. Everywhere I went, people stared. They complimented me. Smiled when they walked by. One woman stopped us while we were shopping for groceries, and asked if she could take my picture. I was more than happy to oblige. Talk about a great day for the ego!
Last week, my parents gave me a couple of belated birthday presents, since they were out of town on the big day. One of them was a red t-shirt that says, You Had Me at Bacon. For some reason, I have a reputation for loving bacon. Truth is, I’m not even sure why. I like bacon just fine, but no more so than the next guy. So I’ve indulged in the occasional maple bacon bar from Voodoo Doughnut. What self-respecting Portlander hasn’t? And, fine, I might have bought a bottle of bacon vodka once. I didn’t even like it all that much, even as a base for Bloody Marys. And okay, sure, there are rumors swirling about that I have eaten chocolate-covered bacon strips. For the record, it was one chocolate-covered bacon strip, no “s” on the end, not plural. Whatever. I also had a chocolate-covered Pringle, but nobody has ever given me a t-shirt that says, You Had Me at Stackable Potato Crisps. So I find it amusing when friends post links to bouquets of bacon roses and bacon cakes and other bacon-related paraphernalia on my Facebook wall. I would sum up my feelings for bacon thusly:
I don’t pine for the swine, but I do think it’s fine.
But yeah, I liked the shirt. I just wasn’t expecting the reaction it generated. We ended up in downtown Portland, strolling through the farmer’s market before heading to the food cart pods for a lunch break, and everywhere we went people commented on my shirt, either directly to me or behind my back as I passed by. They smiled, they pointed, they laughed (with me, not at me, I assume). I have never received so much attention in my life. And I ate it up.
Ironically (or maybe not), I ended up at a food cart called The People’s Pig for lunch. “Did we have you at bacon?” the proprietor asked. I chuckled politely and ordered a porchetta sandwich, which is technically an Italian pork roast, but I suppose it’s close enough to count. And then we were walking by a caramel corn vendor who said, “You look like a guy who would appreciate bacon-topped caramel corn” and, well, suddenly we found ourselves with a small cup of bacon-topped caramel corn, which was admittedly tasty, though we could only manage a few bites.
My shirt, it seems, turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy.
What do you think of bacon? Like it, love it, tolerate it, or loathe it? Have you ever worn an item of clothing that attracted attention?
- Machiavelli’s Principle of Bacon (365daysofbacon.wordpress.com)
- ‘It’s got to be crispy’: Woman, 105, says bacon key to longevity (today.com)