food/love/life/film

Monday, January 14, 2013

The most dangerous meal ever.

I was at my mom's, happily acting like a bachelorette (or rather, not really acting. Because I am...) and having my fill of chapos. I piled on some chicken and sukuma and stuck that sweet looking baby in the microwave (except for the chapo. I don't do chapos and microwaves. Takes away the flavour. Becomes watery on the edges. Completely unsatisfying. Chapo on a pan is crisp and loyal to the true taste of every chapo ever consumed.

I take food seriously.)

I joyously take the (half) meal out of the microwave and put the chapo on the plate. I am singing...you know. Joyously.

I drop the plate.

I stare at the shattered glass and shattered crisp chapo dreams before me. Then I decide Germs can't...um...whatever that thing is, I can't think straight because I am busily thinking 'Save the chapo! Save the world!' I put everything back onto the plate.

There are shards of plate in my chapo and chicken. I nearly swallow a few. I clearly have a death wish that day, because I literally notice these agents of the Anti-Chapo Enjoyment Agency (sent by the Microwave Association, of course) milliseconds before I eat them.

I get to the end of the meal in a cold sweat. Why didn't I stop? (Je ne sais pas) Couldn't I have gotten another chapo? (Mais oui) Maybe I wanted a blogpost entitled the most dangerous. Meal. EVER.

My friend met Mr. T at the movies. She told me about it. My heart frantically grabbed an oxygen mask to regulate my breathing into its proper rhythm. Like a dula, I asked, 'Did he ask about me?' Of course he didn't. They never do. And of course, he didn't have the decency to get less attractive. A song started playing in my head (because I live in a movie) 'fire in her eyes/fire in her eyes/something something she's got fire in her eyes/' only replacing the her with his... '/I love her scandal/'...

That boy is dangerous, but I need to not see him. Sijui I hama. Not the most dangerous meal ever...but he was a tasty one.

Fire in his eyes...

tSN

p.s. So, microwave, or not?

4 comments:

  1. i agree don't microwave chapos, some things are only spoiled when we try to make them into what they used to be, a cold memory can be better than a watery-around-the-edges present

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  2. Did I miss a post or something. Who's Mr.T? Are you dumping wolverine on the interwebs? That's low, man. Real low.

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    Replies
    1. Calm down.

      Mr. T. is my past. Wolverine is my present. :D

      Search The Mr. T. Chronicles.

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