This conversation actually took place a couple days ago in a university classroom between me and J., the girl who’s helping me improve my french in exchange for a little chatting in order for her to keep practicing italian.
J.: So, why did you become vegetarian in the first place?
me: Well, it all started when I was 13 and my family tried to feed me donkey meat. But then I realized I didn’t want to eat beef either, and it evolved into a much more complicated thing, since I didn’t want to support intensive farming.
J.: So, we can say it was just a kid throwing a tantrum!
me: uhh… I guess, if you put it that way (what I actually meant: no, not at all. But I’m too polite for that). What about you, what was your motivation?
J.: Oh, it’s more serious than that… it’s the thought of eating dead meat. It grosses me out. Not foie gras though, that doesn’t look like a corpse, so it’s fine.
I’m still wondering if she actually didn’t find this ridicolous herself. I was too amused to be offended.