Could someone please save my bacon?

By John Fraser

This is life, gym, but not as we know it.

My snooty gym has just changed to a new franchise for its in-house café. Better coffee. Better service.

But no bloody bacon.

You see, some dictator somewhere thinks that if you visit a gym, you must be so keen on health, wellness and all that silly stuff that you will want to make your meals as miserable as your workouts.

So they have all sorts of low-fat, gluten-free shit, but no bacon.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that there are health concerns about bacon, and that some people don’t touch (or swallow) the stuff for religious, or vegetarian, or vegan, or other fanatical reasons.

That’s fine. I do not insist that you should get as intimate with pigs as David Cameron was in his student days.

Take it or leave it. I have no problem with that.

But why, oh why, do you insist on me following your dietary preferences? Bugger off, say I!

I enjoy a good bacon ’n egg brekkie every now and then. Who are you to say I have to eat your fat-free, gluten-free, fun-free, flavour free rabbit food for my breakfast?

And this is not an isolated example of the rasher and rasher crusade against beautiful bacon.

From time to time (never more than five times a day) I enjoy a good burger.

Sometimes I want a few slices of bacon in my burger.

But don’t ask Colonel Mac, or whoever is in charge of the MacDonald’s fast food franchises (it was once our dear Cyril, but I assume he now has other things on his mind), to fill my buns with bacon.

Not allowed. They are a halal operation. No pork products.

Which is fine for those who choose, or who are ordered by their religious leaders, to avoid swine grub.

I, however, have no such religious obligation.

So, once again, someone else is taking a decision on what I can and cannot eat, imposing rules for something to which I have no affiliation.

How dare they?

Maybe it is time I started a boycott of all the cafés and food outlets which ban my favourite pork products.

I am not a bad cook. Perhaps it is time to bring home the bacon. After all, my gym fees could easily purchase a lifetime’s supply of my perfect porky preference.

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