“Don’t eat the bison brats because they’re farmed,” he told her. “They keep breeding the same animals and made a genetic bottleneck. I know it’s obscure and probably isn’t a big-scale thing, but its one of those things I’m standing against.” She looked at him as if he said, “Don’t eat the rubber shoes because they squeak too much.” I see looks like that a lot in coffee shops.
Let me impress you with my environmental impressiveness
“Elk brats are ok because elk are hunted and not farmed,” Enviro-Man said. That one was news to me considering all of the commercially available elk meat I’ve ever seen was raised on ranches, just like bison. I like to think Enviro-Man’s very-patient-friend was sharing my vision: Hordes of Orcs in blaze orange vests marauding the Rocky Mountains harvesting elk for street hotdog vendors.
“I’m a hyper environmentalist,” he added, while wearing his synthetic Adidas t-shirt, GoLite shorts, and Solomon shoes. “It’s a total pain, but you learn to live with it.”
The woman standing with him still hasn’t said a word, although she occasionally opens her mouth for a brief second, as if she were a fish trying to breathe out of water.
“Are you going to the Indigo Girls concert? I like them, but I’m not a lesbian,” he says.
Drop the mic and walk off the stage, Enviro-Man. You’ve earned it.