On Saturday night, after finishing up some trivia at Anthem, I found myself all by my lonesome at the bar of a local restaurant not too far from my house.
I ordered my late night dinner, and just like I did when I'd accompany my grandparents to Furr's as a child, I went with a double-helping of okra as a side. The order came out pretty fast. I quickly grabbed a couple of scalding pieces, gave them a good fresh blow, and tossed them in my mouth, slightly burning my palate in the process. It was totally worth it.
After a few minutes of pecking away, I did a quick look around the restaurant and noticed someone at a table behind me had also ordered okra. I noticed this because they were eating it with a fork!
Like most Oklahomans, I've been eating fried okra my entire life. Out of habit, I've always used my hands like it was popcorn. Maybe the edible I took after trivia was starting to kick in, but I immediately became paranoid. "Have I been doing it wrong my entire life? Am I primitive monster who's lost all dinner table etiquette?"
I did what I normally do in those situations and asked Twitter: