There are very few foods I dislike. For the most part, if a thing is edible then I’ll eat it.
Not olives.
If olives are in a pasta salad I’ll eat around them. I might accidentally get one of the filthy bastards on my fork. I won’t spit it out, but I’ll be less-pleased about my pasta salad experience than I would’ve been otherwise.
If olives are on a pizza I won’t pick them off, but if I’m the one picking the toppings olives aren’t going to be among them.
Add booze to olives? Okay, now we’re moving way up the chain on my olive acceptance spectrum. I’m not plucking an olive out of some oily brine and popping it into my mouth…but if you introduce some vodka then I’m likely to reconsider.
It’s important to note that I am not willfully anti-olive. It kills me that something exists in this world that other people enjoy that I cannot. Occasionally I’ll even try another one - “maybe this time it will be different”. I love all the other foods - hell, I even learned to love brussel sprouts over time. Why not olives?
Maybe some day.
I’ve known a few “olives” in my day, but they’re vanishingly rare; I have had the good fortune to enjoy - or at least appreciate - nearly everyone I’ve met.
Happy Relationships inDay, folks.