So, last night I was having my bi-weekly dinner with Zelda – actually we weren’t supposed to have dinner but she’d called and said she wanted help moving two of her vehicles – which were both at her rental property, blah blah and could I help her out? Sure, I said. Expecting her to be by in five or ten minutes…two hours later she finally shows up and I’m starving cuz I put off eating cuz she was coming right over. Right? No, Zelda has no sense of time. Anyway…I was pretty much gnawing on my own ankle by the time she arrived, so we went to dinner.
Apparently, there was not enough bread, soup and crackers in the joint since I hoovered everything brought to the table the moment it hit my radar. Zelda looked on in apparent horror – what had happened to her friend and who was this pod person sucking up all food in sight? “Blood sugar” I mumbled around a mouthful of something or other. Oh yeah, when I’m in this state I also eat really fast, and Zelda nearly lost two fingers when she reached for the last piece of bread.
Being the odd night that it was, the odd dining behavior and so forth we started talking about how picky an eater I was (while I was literally eating everything in sight) – we argued about what sushi really was and apparently according to Zelda since spicy tuna rolls have mostly rice they aren’t really sushi. Well I thought that was too bad since I call it sushi and I happen to eat it but none of that ‘real’ sushi. Gag me with a spoon. I told her about the time that a date had taken me to a sushi bar and force-fed me a piece of raw, okay, now I’m saying it was raw yellow fin. The minute it hit my mouth it was like a great gob of death, it smelled like old gym shoes and tasted like what I imagined ripe road kill to taste like. So, here I am with this gob of bacterial black plague in my mouth and the date chatting away and smiling cuz he sees the tears in my eyes and thinks I’m so happy to be eating this nuclear waste product – and I’m trying to not actually have my mouth touch it or definitely not taste it. So I somehow manage to excuse myself to the ladies room and as soon as the door closes I Heimlich Manuever that puppy right the hell out. And then of course spent the rest of the evening dying to go home so I could actually eat some real food.
After Zelda got over this story, and composed herself, ensuring she hadn’t actually wet her pants we started talking about other gobs of death that have no business in anyone’s mouth. Pickled Pigs Feet. Have you ever seen these things? They look like the leftovers from a bad operation. And my dear father, God rest his soul, loved these. Whenever he ate them, I refused to go near him for at least two days – I just couldn’t get the image out of my head. The next on the list is anything Roomie makes. He figures as long as he throws olive oil in everything he eats he’s on the life-extending Mederterrainian diet. Okay, are you ready? Fried eggs on top of rice with some fish thrown in for good measure and doused with olive oil. It’s like a hong-kong surprise dock breakfast or something. Oh yeah a bit of raw garlic too. Yummy. Barf. Okra – do I have to explain this? It already looks like something dead and rapidly accumulating a secret disease and then people eat it. I can’t even smell the stuff without thinking of a funeral.
Then there are minor items like:
Anchovies – mmm fury fish – yep I’ll have a double order of those.
Calamari – breaded and deep fried rubber bands – yummy!
Vegemite – sorry my Aussie friends but it tastes like yeast flavored glue.
Powdered cream – why not just go to your local hazardous waste station and scoop some of that into your coffee?
Tripe, chitlins, whole fishes, tongue & haggis – I may have guts but I can’t eat them, nor anything that can look at me or talk to me.
So, those are my great gobs of death, what are yours?
Anita Rodgers Mystery Writer 