OP-ED: When I Die, Grind My Flesh Into Magic Carpet’s Meatless Meatballs

They’re vaguely circular (on a good day). They live in warm styrofoam cups, steamy aluminum containers. They’re steeped in cheese and tomato sauce, and they rest upon vegetables that have become unrecognizable. Yes, I’m talking about Magic Carpet’s meatless meatballs — the bella donna, if you will. This is where I ultimately want to be laid to rest.

Some people donate their bodies to science, others donate their organs. I want to give back to my community by contributing my flesh to the bella donna in all its permutations — in a wrap, in a tin, in a cup, spilled on the sidewalk, or dropped into a warm, unassuming lap. Although they’re currently meatless, I don’t really think of myself as a meaty body. I am incorporeal, ethereal, and placing my ground-up flesh in the meatballs will add my spirit to the meal rather than a meaty presence. Also, I don’t want to pay for a funeral.

I don’t need a tiny sign announcing it, pinned next to the window that Deb peers out of. I can remain anonymous. I just want as many people as possible to support local businesses like Magic Carpet. Also, I hope customers enjoy tasting a piece of this ass.