The Health Nut

Dave came over yesterday to store some of his groceries in my fridge for just a few hours while we went out to have dinner and watch the MLB All-Star Game. I peeked in one of his bags to see if there were any goodies in there, like microwavable pizza or chocolate chip cookie dough, but as usual, all I ever saw was cod liver oil.

Dave and I were roommates for three years during college, and I can tell you wholeheartedly that grocery shopping with this kid was NOT fun. While I'd be in the frozen food aisle looking for a tub of Cherry Garcia icecream, Dave would be perusing the organic section with a box of nasty-assed tofu in his hand. The first time I asked him why he was eating cod liver oil and he told me it was because he wanted to reap the benefits of elongated omega-3 fatty acids, the only possible thing I could say was: "Gezhunteit!"

It's sad. When this guy eats, he doesn't really eat. Dinner is no longer steak, carrots, potatoes, and an orange. Dinner is now protein, beta carotene, complex carbohydrates, and a side of fructose.

It all started five years ago. When we were college freshman, back when Dave was sort of normal, I was moving my things back into my dorm after a long winter break when I saw Dave walking through the hallway, casually flossing his teeth. I could tell he had made a New Year's resolution. "What's goin' on, man?" I said.

Dental floss still stuck between his teeth, Dave replied, "Sup. I'm going to be perfect from now on."

I clapped my hands in mock applause and smiled and said, "You go boy!"

And the years passed by with Dave growing increasingly psychotic about his health, stopping just short of doing yoga in his bedroom with one of those big bouncy balls. I tried my best to reason with the guy, to tell him to just eat the stinkin' fried won ton without worrying if it was poisoned with monosodium glutamate. But he resisted, telling me that the key to a healthy lifestyle was plenty of vitamins and exercise. His eyes would squint in my direction and he would say, "You don't know the history of psychiatry. I do."

So I couldn't help but run into my house to let out a really big laugh yesterday when Dave was pulling the last of his groceries out of his car. What happened was he accidently spilled a whole carton of really expensive, super-duper healthy organic brown eggs all over the sidewalk. "NOOO!!!" he said, holding back tears, clutching his chest in agony. Birds flew away in fear. The empty street got a little quieter. In the distance, you could hear a baby crying.

And Dave sadly scooped out pieces of his precious egg yolk from the curb and muttered, "My babies, my poor babies. All that branched chain leucine, gone. All that tryptophan. Gone. All that phenyalanine... All of that... gone."