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Monday, December 8, 2008

I am a chubby chaser, and I hate ranch dressing

Seriously, I love the expression on the old guy's face in this picture.
It's no secret among my circle of friends that I am a chubby chaser. With very few exceptions (including my current beau), I have always been attracted to slightly overweight guys. I'm not sure why; maybe it's because they tend to be funny and I like funny guys. Maybe it's because they are good insulation on a cold night. Or maybe it's because if we ever crashed our plane in the Andes Mountains, they would provide more caloric sustenance.

Yesterday I stumbled upon Man vs. Food, starring Adam Richman. The premise of the show is that this guy goes around the country and takes on local restaurants' eating challenges. After I saw him successfully eat a 72 oz. steak, plus a salad, baked potato, and a yeast roll, in 32 minutes, I was smitten.

**[UPDATE] Adam also ate a shrimp cocktail with this meal. Oh. My. Gosh.**

**[CONTINUED UPDATE] I was wondering what that thing was between the salad and the roll. I guess that's a shrimp cocktail. With at least 4 shrimp. This man is a GOD.**


Half-way into the show, however, I had to break up with Adam. Why, you might ask, when you two are so obviously a match made in heaven? Well, internet friends, Mr. Richman put ranch on his fried chicken. True, it was at the urging of the proprietor of Gus' Fried Chicken, but still. I hate ranch.

My hate affair with ranch started when I was about 11 years old. I was babysitting my 3 younger sisters, when one of them opened up the fridge and out fell a glass, family-sized bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing. It broke all over the floor, spreading under the cabinets and to almost every corner of our little kitchen. I don't know if you've ever tried it, but it is near to impossible to clean up a sea of ranch dressing. After breathing in the ranch fumes for what felt like 6 hours, I was done with ranch. The thought of it made me gag.

Fast forward about 9 years. I'm in college, waiting tables at a rib joint in North Carolina. Every time I turned around, a table was asking for ranch. Their requests blended together until it sounded like the bleating of so many redneck sheep. "Ranch! Ranch!"

*shudder*

My friend decided that ranch is what runs in the devil's veins. My fellow servers and I would complain when we got sat a bunch of likely ranch dressing lovers.

"Dammit, I just got sat an 8 top of ranch eaters."

or

"Fucking ranch eaters--they didn't even leave me 10%."

I'd try to get my petty revenge on these tables. Our menu said that we had a 'low calorie' ranch, which we were always out of, and I loved to bring ramekin after ramekin of the regular 'high fucking calorie' version to ladies at lunch who requested the 'low cal' version.

"Are you sure this is low-cal? It tastes so good!"
"Of course, ma'am. We carry only Ken's Steakhouse Dressings, that's probably why you can't taste the difference."
"Well, do you mind bringing me some extra ranch, then? Since it's low-cal..."

Hahaha...joke's on you, biotch. I'm not even mad you left me a $0.75 tip on your $9 salad.

The ranch dressing icing on the cake was when one mother, in between puffs on her More cigarette, told me her son needed extra ranch dressing on his salad. But of course, ma'am.

"Really, he just wants ranch soup with some lettuce floating in it," she laughs.

*sound of a record scratching*

What?

So, I'm sorry, Adam Richman. Things would never work out between us. You are funny, and charming, and I'd never have to worry about forgetting my to-go box at restaurants, if I could just overlook this one flaw. You are so close to being the perfect man.

Also you have a master's degree from Yale's School of Drama and I think you might be gay.

17 comments:

LBluca77 said...

I like ranch, I don't ever buy but I will have it when I go out to eat.

I do hate though mayonnaise. Yuck! Hate it on sandwiches. I can handle it in tuna or as dip for an artichoke, but other than that the idea of it makes me want to barf.

LBluca77 said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Dolce said...

I hate ranch too. And chubby chaser? I have NEVER in my life heard of that before... I LIKE it. I too prefer funny men to good looking men. Meaning I would pick Jack Black over Matt Damon. Call me crazy, but it's the truth.

Nilsa said...

Thank god I'm not trying to date you. Because chicken strips with ranch ... well, it's a redneck tie to chicken strips with bbq. Yummmm!

saratogajean said...

lbluca77 - I'm the same way with mayo. If it's in or on something already, I'm alright. But I can't cook with it or put it on anything myself. Yuck.

dolce - Seriously, I've been called a chubby chaser so many times it's not even funny.

Ok, a little bit funny, because I imagine myself actually chasing chubby boys down the street. Which I do not do. Anymore.

nilsa - BBQ=ok. I'm down with it. I would be ok with ranch, just the frenzy that accompanies it is too much for me.

Kate said...

I'm a blue cheese girl, myself. And people gag when I order it. I do not know why! Blue Cheese dressing on chicken strips, fries, salad, anything really.

And I like it when there's some squish to my man. I do.

stealthnerd said...

Aw, Adam and I could be good together...I happen to be a ranch-lover. Our affair started in college and I've been hooked ever since.

saratogajean said...

kate - My favorite restaurant has a bleu cheese vinegarette dressing that I would swim in, if I could afford to buy that much and it wouldn't make me break out in awkward places.

stealthnerd - Wait--Adam and *I* would be great together! He could give up the ranch, I'm sure. There are acceptable substitutes, like honey mustard, or bleu cheese...

~Trish~ said...

I've always like bigger guys too, I think it's cuz they make me feel small :) hehe

So@24 said...

Damn. I think we may have found a flaw.

Ranch dressing is the illest. I'm not even playin'.

But playing jokes on poor tipping customers and using the word "ramekin" really brought me back to my waiting days. I kind of miss it.

I also used to work in a movie theater. I loved it when the lardos would order an extra large buttery popcorn, stressing that the butter be layered at least 3 times and then order an extra large Coke. No wait... better make it a DIET.

...

rs27 said...

I thought only men could be chubby chasers? I think the other way around it's called, "Gold Digging"

Hey-Oh! I'll be here all comment.

surviving myself said...

Definitely gay.

saratogajean said...

~trish~ - Oh yeah, that too. I've had one boyfriend who "surprised" me by pulling on one of my shirts as I was doing laundry. I was like, "Um, not cool. How am I supposed to feel delicate and feminine when you are wearing the 'Sarah Rocks' t-shirt I made for myself? And looking good in it?"

so - Ug. I can smell your ranch breath from here.

rs27 - It's definately digging. I don't know about for gold, though.

Man, sometimes I gross myself out.

surviving myself - I thought so.

Dr Zibbs said...

Thanks for reminding me about that Man Vs Food show. I've got to see that. I'm reading a book now about the competative eating circuit. It's pretty interesting.

Andy said...

I love to eat but am not chubby, so I think that disqualifies me as much as liking ranch would. It's not meant to be. But I appreciate your willingness to like men who eat steaks that can be weighed in pounds.

Lump said...

omg you are hysterical! ok I'm sorry to say that I love me some ranch, but I would have left you a bigger tip even if it wasn't really low-cal ranch.

this story reminds me of the movie Broken with Heather Graham where she is a waitress and some dude asks for Soy Yogurt. She goes back and gets him regular yogurt and well, you guessed it, passes it off as Soy Yogurt. ;)

Anonymous said...

I love waiters. They taste just like chicken, with honey mustard. NOT ranch. Hehe.

Side note, I am a chubby man. You have to get it, though. Once you get one roll shaking, your whole body quivers . Slap a few rolls and that ((private area I won't say here)) starts vibrating.

You just have to know how to use what you got, skinny or fat. Drop it like it's on fire, biotches!

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