I ABHOR THE PICKLE.
Seriously. I think William Langland said it best:
Well it was something like that. The point is, in case you didn't quite get it yet, is I hate pickles. I hate their smell, their look, their taste. One of my biggest pet peeves is to be at a restaurant and have a pickle and its juice splashed all over my plate. It makes the buns soggy, ruins the fries, and pretty much makes me want to smash my fist through the table. Ok, that last part isn't true, but it does tend to make me a little cranky. Especially because I've been on this world long enough to know that many places serve pickles on the side (why? why do they do this??). I also know well enough that it will ruin my meal, so I always tell the server "NO PICKLE ANYWHERE PLEASE" so when I get served and there is pickles it does not a happy Bambi make.
Oh the horror...