No, I told my son. A big, heartfelt & emphatic “no”. I do not want to share that revolting salami with you. Under any circumstances. I am, after all, a fakatarian. Meat grosses me out when I’m not digging in, and has been known to rob me of my beauty sleep which trust me, is not a good thing. Besides, we were on our way to a lavish dinner at Aunt Josephine’s. I wasn’t about to ruin my appetite on something that’s not even really food. And then he handed me a piece on a high-grade plastic fork. I was driving, it was rainy. I had had what for me was a long day. My defenses were down and he knew it. Besides it wasn’t the regular salami that stays with you for days, this my friends was “Gourmet Salami” that was even delectable sans mustard. I drove, he sliced and sliced some more -listen I didn’t want to be rude! And wouldn’t it only help me control my appetite later at Aunt Josephine’s where I’ve been known to hoard enough for two? Oh who am I kidding? It was never about dear Auntie J, it wasn’t even about me, it was all about the salami. Yes all of it.