Why The Monster eats salad has everything to do with a goat penis.
The Monster was living in Kingston, Jamaica working for the Jamaican Human Rights Council while taking classes at the University of Technology. At the time, Kingston was one of if not the most dangerous cities in the Western hemisphere; besides being chased by wild dogs, attacked by ants, finding a dead taxi cab driver with a bullet hole in his head three doors down from his home and having a gun pulled on him, The Monster also had to deal with eating in a country that loves many things The Monster won’t eat.
Like goat penis.
The Monster and another person on his program lived in Papine, a section of town not far from Bob Marley’s estate and at the foothills of the Blue Mountains (where Jamaica’s two famous crops are grown, coffee and marijuana). As The Monster has let it be known, he does not drink coffee.
A schoolteacher, Olive, opened her home to us for the duration of our stay in Jamaica. She provided breakfast and dinner on days we were in town (we often did side trips within Jamaica and to neighboring islands). Olive became intimately aware of the various fears, phobias and conundrums that make up The Monster’s eating habits. Problem is someone who doesn’t eat red meat or mushrooms or olives or whites sauces or salads or any of the other quirks The Monster has isn’t left with a ton of options in a country like Jamaica.
So one evening sitting on the kitchen table was a goat penis. It was on a silver platter. The Monster remembers it being a huge, grotesque penis (it probably wasn’t either). Surely Olive knows The Monster doesn’t eat red meat. Is goat penis considered white meat? Is Olive going to try to get The Monster to eat a goat penis? Because that ain’t happening.
In horror we stared at this monstrosity. When Olive walked in The Monster let it be known that he had no intentions of eating goat penis. Olive quickly flash fried the goat penis and cut it into pieces that resembled potato chips. At this point The Monster probably had a full blown panic attack. Olive dipped a piece of goat penis in salt and ate it. The Monster had a full blown panic attack.
Olive laughed and pulled a salad out from the refrigerator. Until this point The Monster did not eat salad.
The Monster ate salad that evening. All of it. He’d never been so happy to eat lettuce and carrots and tomatoes with Italian dressing. The Monster now enjoys salad.
And he has a goat penis to thank for it.