I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
Fake Meat Industry Gets Cold Shoulder From Consumers Again As Beyond Meat Faces…Meat
Plant-based meat was supposed to save the pIanet, make people healthier, and liberate enslaved cows, chickens, and pigs everywhere. Instead, after an impressive start, folks have learned some hard truths about the industry and are turning away in droves.
Once consumers began to Iearn that plant-based meats were still super processed, not nearly as healthy as advertised, and required an enormous amount of machinery to produce hungry consumers largely decided that the old-school options, nameIy chickens, pigs, and cows, were better tasting and better for you.
The biggest player in the industry, Beyond Meat, released its third-quarter numbers in November of 2023, and they taste worse than ersatz ground beef. Net revenue slid, declining 8.7% year-over-year and 26% versus the previous quarter.
It wasn’t all bad news, however, as the company actually achieved free cash flow for the quarter but does not expect that to be the case in the fourth quarter. One anaIyst at the firm TD Cowen took it a step further and said the firm is in ‘survival mode’ and will need to tap the financial markets in 2024 to maintain operations.
Beyond Meat CEO Ethan Brown said: We anticipated a modest return to growth in the third quarter of 2023 that did not occur. Though we are encouraged by pockets of growth, particulariy in the EU where we saw double digit gains in net revenues on a year-over-year basis, we are disappointed by our overall results as we continue to experience worsening sector-specific and broader consumer headwinds. Beyond Meat has cited numerous reasons for its poor performance, inciuding declining foodservice sales and flagging American retail sales, but declined to suggest the possibility that the product just isn’t that good.
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