HUMOR
In The Name of WatermelonLOS ANGELES 25 January 2010 |
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You probably get hungry twice a day. Maybe three times. You get a sandwich or some pasta or a piece of meat or some fake meat if you’re a vegetarian and you just feel too sorry for the widdle aminuls that would have to die to feed you. Then you eat the sandwich or pasta or meat or fake meat, and then you are satisfied. Maybe you smoke a cigarette, or don’t smoke a cigarette because you aren’t going to be manipulated by big tobacco because you’re a smart, free-thinking individual, or maybe you were just never a smoker, in which case, you must not like to try new things.
The point is, you get hungry, and then you eat. Then you stop eating and that’s that. You wait for the next meal.
I don’t do that.
I sit around almost all day, thinking about food. What do I want to eat? When do I want to eat it? How will I eat it? What will I not eat? Why won’t I eat it?
I do this because I have an unhealthy relationship with food. Don’t get me wrong – everything is okay. I’m doing just fine. But food is my enemy, and I fucking hate it. It, in its many forms, leaves me obsessed and bothered.
Right now, I am completely preoccupied with white cheddar popcorn. I have been thinking about white cheddar popcorn for about five months. I frequently have to make trips to 7-11 in the middle of the night to fulfill my white cheddar popcorn requirements. Purchasing multiple bags and stocking up is not helpful, because I will eat every bag I buy on the day they are purchased. I don’t care if I am sick because I’ve eaten too much; if it’s there, I’m eating it.
White cheddar popcorn is my enemy.
And I’m so ashamed. The guy at 7-11 thinks I’m a freak. I’m there every day, buying this shit. Most people who go to 7-11 daily are getting items that are actually addictive. Cigarettes. Alcohol. I’m there getting white cheddar fucking popcorn.
This has happened before. When I was 22, I had a watermelon problem. I couldn’t stop myself from eating watermelon. Every moment that passed, I thought about watermelon. I was at the grocery store every day, buying myself watermelon, because 7-11 doesn’t carry them.
About a month passed, during which time I consumed between 21-30 watermelons. And then one day, it came to my attention that my habit had not gone unnoticed.
There was a girl who worked at the grocery store. She had her bangs dyed purple and she wore a dog collar and she had a skull and crossbones ring on her middle finger. If I were her mother, I would have told her she looked fucking stupid, but I was just a grocery store customer, present only to buy a brand new watermelon every day or so.
My watermelon came rolling down the conveyor belt, and the girl looked up at me.
“Boy, you must really like watermelon,” she said.
The little bitch. She said it like she was disgusted. Like I was doing something wrong. The subtext was: “Boy, you must really like watermelon, and that is a quality that makes me think less of you as a person.”
It wasn’t as though I was buying multiple watermelons at once. At the time, I was buying one watermelon unit. The only reason she would have commented on my apparent fondness for watermelon would be because she’d noticed the high frequency of watermelon purchase. She was keeping track.
The next day, I was back. Having eaten the watermelon that got me mocked by the little punk grocery bagger, I needed more. I didn’t see her there, so I assumed I was safe. Out of range of her judgment. When I got to the produce section, I picked up a watermelon. Then I picked up another one. I figured that buying two at once would keep me away from the grocery store long enough for it to seem that my next watermelon purchase wasn’t totally unreasonable.
I wheeled my cart up to the check-out lanes, and that’s when I saw her. She was smiling at a male customer, probably explaining to him how and why his grocery selections were all embarrassing. The girl scratched her head with long, fake fingernails and shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
She wasn’t there when I came in. Apparently she’d been hiding when I entered the store, making herself discreet so that she could judge me and my watermelon. I went to the lane that had a longer wait, because she was bagging at the other one.
In a twist of grocery fate, the old lady in front of me asked the bagger in my lane for assistance in bringing her groceries to her car. My lane was baggerless. And the bitchy girl was bored, since her line was empty. The moment she looked over and noticed that there was work to be done, I started to panic. She walked slowly towards me and my two watermelons, a hint of malice sparkling in her eyes. She cracked her knuckles, one by one. I interpreted this as some kind of exaggerated hand preparation for the bagging she’d be doing for me, lifting those heavy watermelons and all.
“More watermelon? Hmm.”
The “hmm” was what really annoyed me. What did it mean? Had she just gotten the proof she needed to justify some sort of consumer hypothesis? What did it mean? I panicked.
“Well, my kids really love it,” I said.
Again, I was twenty-two. I didn’t have kids. Still don’t.
“You have kids?” she asked.
“Yes, three of them,” I said. Shit, I thought. Why did I say three? One, maybe, but three, definitely not.
“Wow, three kids. You look so young,” she said, trying to back me into a corner.
“I’m thirty five,” I said. Thirty five! I was consistently told I looked younger than my age, and here I was, claiming to be thirteen years older than I really was to justify my watermelon to the little bagger punkette.
“You don’t look thirty five,” she said.
I had to get the conversation away from my age before she demanded to see my driver’s license.
“I figure that if my kids want something healthy like watermelon, I shouldn’t discourage it,” I said. It seemed like something a mother would say.
As I hurried out of the store, I thought that I had avoided disaster. I gave her a reasonable explanation for the large quantity of watermelon and it was possible that she bought it.
The next time I went in, I saw her there before I got to the check out. Due to pure shame, I didn’t pick up any watermelon.
“How are your kids?” the girl asked. “You should bring them with you.”
I looked her in the eye, studied her expression. It was clear; I was being interrogated.
“Well two of them have discipline problems and one of them is in a wheelchair so it’s easier to just leave him at home,” I explained. Jesus.
“So the one in the wheelchair just stays at home all the time?” she asked.
“He doesn’t like sunlight much anyway,” I said.
I started sweating. Apparently, when I was pressured, I was the kind of mother who left her handicapped child alone in a dark room.
“Okay, then. Have a nice day,” the girl said, absolutely with a touch of sarcasm.
I had managed to win the duel, but only by claiming something no person would claim unless it were true. My morals had sunk below those of a teenager with purple hair and a dog collar around her neck. She didn’t even offer me help out. Not that I wanted it. She might have seen that my car had no trace of children. Then again, why would it, if I always left my children at home, locked in their rooms.
That night I ate both watermelons. I wished that I’d gotten a bag of cookies, or some ice cream. But all I had were my watermelons, for which I’d created an entire abused family and aged thirteen years.
And now, I’m showing up at the 7-11 three blocks from my apartment at two in the morning, and buying white cheddar popcorn, plus a selection of other crap every time, so as to increase the odds that my white cheddar popcorn problem might be successfully buried beneath the pile of other assorted junk foods. But tonight, the guy at 7-11 made it clear that he was aware of my habit.
“Don’t you cook?” he asked me.
“What?” I said, playing dumb.
“You only eat junk?” he asked.
“My friend is in the hospital, and she loves this stuff,” I said.
He nodded at me. He smiled a knowing smile. Yeah, sure, I bet your hospitalized friend is sending you for white cheddar popcorn at two in the morning, honey.
He didn’t press for any more information, so I think I’m safe.
For now.
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A. Welcome back, Lenore. I missed you.
B. I am hugely impressed that you’re thirteen years older than I thought you were, and you have three children, one of whom is disabled and photosensitive, and subject to your maternal laziness.
C. Now I want white cheddar popcorn. Goddamnit.
D. I want to start telling more lies now. I think, to be as organized as possible about it, I should go out one day a week and lie.
Actually, that could work really well:
Q: Are you really an American citizen?
A: Yes.
i missed you, too, simon. and i think you should absolutely lie. all the time. about everything.
I promise I’ll never lie again.
Hey, this isn’t fun!
you’re a nerd.
You’re not.
I hope my kids can think on their feet as fast as you did with the emo bitch of food shopping. You make lying look really fucking cool.
if your kids can lie like i lie, then you’ll know every time they lie. because i suck at it. really, i do. i’m so obvious. i start laughing or panicking or something. i always get caught.
My children are TERRIBLE liars. Even the one with the gimp leg and the extreme case of agoraphobia. You could have used “agoraphobic” on her and she probably would have forgotten about the obvious lie about your age.
being a bad liar makes people sweet.
Fuck, you’re funny Lenore!! I was laughing out loud at the thought of your three children, especially the sunlight-fearing handicapped one. Too brilliant!
God, I’ve missed you!
i’ve missed you, my darling! i needed a little break from the world, but i am back now and ready to say stupid things on the internet once again!
You are consistently hilarious. It makes me angry and jealous. But you’re so fucking adorable, that it’s impossible to stay angry and jealous.
I often spend my day planning my meals. But this has more to do with the fact that I’m unemployed and live with my parents and have little else to look forward to.
oh gosh, i’m so excited that someone is jealous of me! hopefully this will translate to people sending me money. do you think that will happen?
i really don’t know what people who don’t obsess about food do all day long. they must be so productive.
Firstly, welcome back… It’s been a long time.
Secondly, cheddar popcorn sounds awesome.
Thirdly, you should try moving to a country where they eat bugs, dried squid, seaweed and live octopus… After a while you pretty much stop caring about the next meal.
thank, David. i would love to live in a country that had a bunch of not-food for food. i’d probably get super into the dried squid and then get some kind of squid poisoning. i’d be the one, i’m sure of it.
See, I’ve grown to like some foods I would normally have considered weird… I can even eat live squid or raw squid or barely dead and mildly warmed up squid… But for the life of me I just can’t eat dried squid. They sell it everywhere and people go nuts for it. But it tastes and smells like cat food. Indeed, I feed it to my cats when some delusional but well meaning moron gives me some of the stuff. And then I have to boycott my cats for a few days because they smell so bad…
you should just keep eating the dried squid till you like it. sometimes you have to train yourself to enjoy these things. i’m sure it’s worth it on some level.
You had me at “Well, my kids really love it.” Ha ha ha ha ha!
No, actually you had me at “I’m there getting white cheddar fucking popcorn”, but hey who am I kidding? I just about wet my seat laughing at this throughout the whole piece. Funny glances from my co-workers have confirmed that they think I’m a crazy loon.
Lenore, this is priceless. You’re hilarious!
They took our vending machine away last week. The last items in there were a Bar One chocolate bar and about 6 bags of white cheddar popcorn. SSE? If you’d let me know about this last week, I would’ve raided that vending machine and FedExed you the reamining bags of popcorn.
i don’t understand how it’s possible that the white cheddar popcorn didn’t get sold out of the vending machine. i don’t get it. how could anyone prefer doritos to white cheddar popcorn?
i don’t think SSE applies to me. if it does, i wish the universe would leave me alone and stop making me want white cheddar popcorn.
and thank you! i love that you laughed!
Simone,
That wouldn’t have worked. Then Lenore would have eaten all 6 bags of white cheddar popcorn at one sitting. I know about this, because this is what I do. If I buy a large plastic bag of little 100 calorie treats all safely wrapped up separately, I simply tear one open after the other until I’ve eaten them all. I’m sorry to say that I believe this is a genetic fault for which I am responsible. Sorry, Lenore.
On the other hand, I think you are just the kind of person to leave your handicapped children in the dark at home while you go buy food at 2 in the morning.
I’m getting a lawyer to get custody of Hege and Wetzel. You are clearly not a fit mother.
Irene, I know Lenore probably would’ve scoffed all 6 bags of popcorn, but it would’ve saved her a trip to the 7-11 and out of the prying eyes of the guy behind the counter.
Eating things in one sitting, well I think we all have some experience in that department. Saturday morning I went out and bought a HUGE bag of potato chips and a slab of chocolate. Saturday afternoon I was two movies (both staring George Clooney), a slab of chocolate, big bag of chips and 3 cups of tea down. Thank heavens I went to boxing training to work it off yesterday morning.
i absolutely would have eaten every last bag. i really would have. and then i would have cried and cried.
if my mom comes to try to take my kittens away from me, can you come by with your boxing skillz and stop her? i mean, come on, mom. everyone knows that you don’t have to be a fit mother to raise cats. i think it’s a requirement that you not be fit.
Okay, Lenore, you convinced me.
I won’t take you to court over your cats.
For reasons that are not apparent, they seem to be quite happy with your mothering “skills.”
I guess that’s enough.
(You know that you have me thinking only of white cheddar popcorn, right? Thanks a lot!)
don’t get any. if you get some, it’ll be all over and you’ll never stop thinking about it. i’m giving you good advice here, mom. believe me, i’m a psychologist.
I don’t think I’d like to hurt your mom with a couple of left jabs and a right hook.
Tell you what, I’ll keep an eye on your cats while you and Irene have a DMC (Deep Meaningful Conversation). I’m sure you’ll come to some sort of agreement.
PLEASE NOTE: I can’t be held responsible if Hege and Wetzel take a liking to me, and I to them. Then I may just have to take them home with me.
It was a struggle tyo read this in a library.
Eventually I just gave up and burst out laughing.
Now people are giving me the sort of dirty looks usually reserved for watermelon fiends.
Awesome post…
yay! library disruption! libraries are too damn quiet anyway. congrats on the completion of CCB btw.
thanks…
I’ve decided that this library is too loud. I have to work, why won’t everyone just shut the fuck up? They’re all so terribly dull as well… inane conversation. I wouldn’t mind if I got to overhear something interesting…
i love listening to other people’s dull conversations. it makes me feel better about myself.
can’t a girl buy her food without the 20 questions anymore?? sheesh. i’m 100% stressed out.
i always love your first paragraphs. this one was exceptionally wonderful.
can we please have an EATathon?
you always comment on the things i love…i was so amused by the first paragraph, too. and yes, of course we can have an eatathon. eatathons are one of the best reasons to come visit you. we can make chris go get us ice cream again. and go get those artichoke melts. jesus christ those are good.
Well, as promised in the blurb, or extract or whatever that thing is called, this was funny as hell. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much since you posted that piece about making out with the guy with the forked tongue and picking at the scabs that resulted. I’m hurting from laughing so hard.
I used to judge people at the grocery store for the stuff they were buying. Well, maybe I didn’t judge them so much as ponder what their choices said about them — is that the same? And I know I’m judged right back, although, for a period, I was obsessed with smoked salmon and cream cheese and capers, which I’d eat at least twice a week, smearing the cream cheese on a toasted baguette and putting capers on top of that, followed by the salmon; and one night some guys in line behind or in front of me looked at what I was buying and they went on and on about what good eating lay in store for me. So that was a good experience of buying judged by other shoppers. I’m sure I’ve had bad, but maybe I’m blocking it out.
capers. really? there aren’t too many foods that i just don’t like, but capers are one of them. i don’t know. the taste isn’t the problem. nor is the texture. i think it’s the concept. why? why little pickle balls? why?
but i love cream cheese and i would eat it straight with no problem. i don’t know why it’s so good, but man, it really is. and i’m not talking about that bullshit lowfat cream cheese. that stuff is for pussies.
Why little pickle balls…
Why do you make me projectile fluids on my computer screen?
So a spitter, not a swallow—
No, I just can’t do it.
matt, you must learn to control yourself.
Capers totally ROCK! I, like Duke, love them with salmon and cream cheese. Ooh, even if you add some scrambled eggs to the ingredients it makes it so worth while.
Matt: You should try gargling.
Thanks for the support on capers, Simone. I stand firm in the matter.
Gack! Capers.
I should’ve expected that. I’ll add it to the long list of foods you don’t like.
Who me? I love all foods. And all things.
Capers… mmmmm….. YUM!!
We have a vegetarian pizza, at the restaurant I work at, called an Ortoloana, it’s the best smelling and tasting pizza (In my opinion). If there’ aren’t capers on it it just doesn’t taste or smell ‘right’.
People come in an order that pizza and always leave them off. I sometimes roll my eyes and exclaim: “But that’s the BEST part of the pizza!!”
I get quizzzicle looks back and that “The customer is always right” look. Their loss!
I’ve never had capers on a pizza, but I would in a heartbeat.
Lenore.. can’t you send the kid in the wheelchair down to the store to get you the white cheddar popcorn? Think how many more bags he could hold in his lap…….
an excellent idea. see, you’re clearly a forward thinker.
Confucius is often misquoted. The original text translates to “Be not ashamed of your freaky-assed food cravings and make them crimes.” I am not a food snob, I am a food slut. I blame my Italian heritage. A coworker made the most unbelievably good angelfood cake last Friday and we IMed back and forth with suggestions on sides for next time. By the time we got to the Ghirardelli-dipped strawberries, I nearly had to excuse myself for a “smoke break” in the restroom and began to wonder if I should tell my wife about this exchange.
And lying is just pure entertainment. I will frequently make up the worst, most obviously lies and deliver them utterly deadpan just to see how much bullshit people will tolerate before calling, well, bullshit. To my surprise, it’s a lot.
Go down to that 7-11 right now and buy fourteen bags of that white cheddar popcorn. Tell him it was close - you almost had “an attack” over the weekend - so it wisest to stockpile in advance. Invent an unheard-of skin disease that involves lesions and offer to show him what happens when you don’t keep up your “popcheddarol levels”. See if he offers bulk discount. Or if he’ll deliver.
this would definitely be fun. the problem is, at some point they would get wise to me, and then they would think i was a crazy person. which is fine, except that they might determine that i am too crazy to come in the 7-11, and then i wouldn’t be able to get my white cheddar fix. i’d have to be one of those people outside 7-11, begging someone to buy me white cheddar popcorn. you know those people. i mean, usually they want cigarettes or change or alcohol. but i’d want the popcorn, because i am a freak. eventually i would stop bathing and i’d just sit there, outside 7-11, begging for the stuff. and then someone would have to institutionalize me and that shit is expensive!!!
angelfood cake sounds so good right now.
Sweetie, we’re talking 7-11 here, not the Four Seasons. Actually defecating on the checkout counter - or possibly the clerk instead - might get you hit with the crazy-ban hammer. Making up crazy shit, probably not so much.
Yeah, angelfood cake. Maybe some little warm peach slices and syrup. Some of those chocolate-dipped strawberries. And maybe just two fingers or so of a nice single-malt - Oban, maybe Dalwhinnie - to wash it down.
What? I like scotch. It’s like black - goes with damn-near everything.
yeah, but my 7-11 is in west hollywood. they have standards.
i have tried to like scotch, but i’m still not there. i’m gonna keep trying.
Attagirl! That’s why I refuse to go to AA - I wasn’t raised to be a quitter. You keep trying! As for West Hollywood standards, this is good to know. I’ll stay east of the Rockies, just in case. Or at least no further west than Nevada.
We missed you, Lenore, but this was worth the wait. Ha! Plus, now we know what you’ve been busy doing: eating white cheddar popcorn.
You know what’s addictively good? Cedar’s Taboule. But it makes my breath smell like ass, so Steph doesn’t like when I eat it.
Also, I think the punk girl at the grocery store had taken a shine to you. She was looking for you to invite her back to your place for watermelon-infused vodka shots.
That’s exactly what I was thinking!
a friend of mine gets in trouble every time she eats at this specific middle eastern place for lunch because when she comes home her husband can tell she’s had the garlic paste stuff and he thinks it’s repulsive. haha.
i missed you guys, too. it’s good to be back among friends.
I’m laughing to myself so hard that I’m crying - so thank Lenore (cuz I’m having a bad day and this has cheered me right the fuck up.) I love you - you are my hero - can I gush?
You’re a fucking riot.
I have so been where you are - just totally embarrassed at the daily trip to the deli I used to frequent when I lived alone in the city. I used to go after the gym, so my hair was always totally wet
and my face all red - it’s so embarrassing how red my face gets when I exercise. But I would get ravenous after I worked out and that’s when I’d shop for whatever. I remember always feeling like I had to justify my red face and wet hair to the lady at the counter. So, I’d say I just worked out. But one day when I was buying something junky with my purchases and she actually said to me,
“Maybe you wouldn’t have to go to the gym if you stopped eating …that…” Ugh. I don’t know if I stopped going to the gym first or her deli first - but something stopped.
And one more note - my mom actually used to request white cheddar popcorn when she was in the hospital - so it’s not that absurd, I suppose. She also used to request cartons of cigs. Oh well.
So - thank you for making me laugh. You go with your bad ass white cheddar popcorn eating self!
oh my god, my face turns bright red when i work out too! it’s so annoying! it makes me feel like a beast of some kind. but when i was marathon training, eventually it stopped turning red. so maybe the trick is to start running 15 miles at a time or whatever, and then your face chills out. but your knees blow, and then you can’t do anything at all. you pick.
and fuck that deli bitch. she can blow me. i hate when people say shit like that. “you don’t need that.” no? i don’t care. i want it. fuckoff.
and thank you for laughing!
Holy fuck, this was funny.
I love watermelon, and the next time this food obsession returns, please call me and I will buy the watermelon so no one will judge you. (My favorite part about eating watermelon is seeing how far I can spit a seed. Are you a seed spitter, too?)
I’m like this with chocolate. I cannot keep it in the house or I will eat it all. When I lived in NY, there was this one deli that carried a specific kind that I like, so I’d stop there every day. Azad never judged me, though. (Yes, I was on a first name basis with the clerk.) Thank god I’m as obsessed with dance classes as I am with chocolate.
i swallow the seeds. spitting them out makes it so that i have to take time away from eating. i don’t like to be distracted from my eating. so i just swallow anything in my mouth.
and now for the jokes that i’ve set myself up for….
chocolate, for me, is surprisingly nonaddictive. i have no problems with it. i can just leave it. i do love this particular white chocolate with coconut thing though, and that’s as close as i come to having an issue with it.
also, i love being on a first name basis with clerks. it makes me so happy. makes me feel very important.
That would be Lindt, yes? That is good stuff, but I mainline the Toffee Crunch.
Remind me never to put my foot in your mouth. I like dancing.
yes, lindt! so good. yummmm. i will not eat your foot. promise.
This must be genetic too. Sara swallows all the seeds to everything too. Damn, we have a weird family.
So you’re a family of swallowers and not spitters, then?
heh.
Oh, Matt. Not even I went there.
uuuummmmmmm…………
groan.
Oh Matt.
Dammit. Someone regifted me one of those huge fucking tins of popcorn this Christmas, and I just threw the damn thing out yesterday. If I’d known about your addiction I would have just sent it to you; a whole third of it was white chedder.
No purple-haired teenage emo girls have ever gotten snarked at my purchases. I know feel diminished as a person.
Welcome back. Thanks for the laughs.
oh i don’t want the tin of popcorn. thank you, but no thank you. i don’t want any of this! i want this to stop! i want to be normal!
have normal colored hair emo girls every made fun of your food? they’re such little assholes.
You’re safe. I dumped the popcorn out and recycled the tin. It was starting to get stale anyways. Even my rat didn’t really want to eat it.
Emo girls tend to avoid me. Probably because they know I’ll badmouth Pete Wentz and make them cry.
how can you badmouth Pete Wentz?! He’s so handsome and talented!
No, wait… I might be thinking of someone else…
i kinda like fall out boy.
James, you’re obviously thinking of Pete Townsend. Or possibly even just Pete Yorn.
Neither Lenore nor James get control of the ipod in the TNB bus.
I have an awesome taste in music.
My stereo broke this morning. You need to turn it on to get the disc out. One of my Soundgarden albums is stuck in my stereo.
To be honest I’m not even sure who Pete Wentz is… I’m guessing ‘a twat’…
From Fall Out Boy. The one who had a kid with Jessica Simpson’s little sister that they named Mogwai. He did an interview with Playboy about 6 months ago or so (yet another sign of the downward slope that magazine is on) that was one of the most pretentious, self-involved dickish things I’ve ever been exposed to–and I’ve been in the same room with Puff Daddy.
whatever guys. they write some catchy songs.
Oh Lenore, I tried to hold my laughs in, but I was unsuccessful — You’re hilarious!
Also, I’m now obsessing over the thought of a bag of Smart Food. Bitch.
fuck the smartfood. it’s ruined my life for almost half a year. don’t get any. maybe if everyone boycotts smartfood, they’ll go out of business and i won’t have to worry about this anymore.
I felt guilty just reading this. I mean really guilty. I can’t even admit what I ate yesterday.
i want to know now. i love food contests.
Well, first for lunch yesterday I cooked some chicken fried rice. Having an Asian woman in the house really helps to learn how to cook stuff you get at Chinese restaurants. After that I settled in with a package of Oreos.
I ate the whole package.
That of course ruined my dinner.
But later, on my way home I stopped and bought two chocolate old fashioned donuts. Kerouac had a problem with pastries too I think.
Anyway, I woke this morning with a horrendous stomach ache.
I just got back from jogging. All I’ve had is water so far today. No contest there.
dude, i can eat more than you. i promise. i am an overeating master. but a whole bag of oreos is definitely an accomplishment. well done.
I remember have a contest once at an Olive Garden with my kids: who could drink the most sodas. It got ugly.
i would lose that contest. i am bad at drinking. i can hardly fit a whole glass of fluid in me if i have an hour to do it.
C’mon, what was it?
Hahahahahahaha.
I don’t know what I find funnier. That you ate a watermelon every day or your description of having done so. What a funny piece of writing.
“But all I had were my watermelons, for which I’d created an entire abused family and aged thirteen years.”
Awesome.
it’s all worth it for the watermelon. sweet delicious watermelon. love of my life.
I was eating Blazin’ Buffalo & Ranch Doritos as I read this but instantly regretted it, craving Smartfood white cheddar popcorn instead. I used to love that stuff. Used to live on it practically. The white cheddar that sticks to your fingers tastes so good. Oh man, I know what I’ll be buying from the convenience store this evening on my way home from work. Damn you!
P.S. I just realized the addictive “white cheddar” that sticks to your fingers may actually be cocaine.
holy crap, i wonder if you’re right. i hope you are. i wouldn’t mind having a legit explanation for my disgusting eating behaviors.
but i have to tell you, you really must put down those doritos. replace them with kettle chips or something. doritos are nasty. the only thing that’s good about them is the flavor powder. i sometimes lick it off the doritos without eating the chips. that is acceptable, right?
I used to love Doritos — unnatural love. And then a friend mentioned that his dogs feet smell exactly like Doritos. AND HE WAS RIGHT. My dogs feet when wet also smell like Doritos. I’m cured.
omigod. yuck.
I’ve thought about writing Doritos before and telling them to put the flavor powder on both sides. Whenever I get a Spicy Sweet Chili Dorito that isn’t covered in flavor powder I become an angry consumer.
Jeffrey - it’s actually crack The same thing they put in krispy kremes.
likely true.
It is. My dealer verified.
I mean, that’s what a cop friend of mine said he overheard once upon a time…. at Krispy Kreme.
Ah Jeffrey. You got to that point before I did.
Finger-licking good, yes indeed.
I never found a good way to do the cheddar popcorn while driving, though.
Me neither. I totaled my first car that way.
Not really but I thought it’d be funny to say.
Hey, even the comments are supposed to be creative non fiction, aren’t they?
i eat white cheddar popcorn while i drive all the time. so far so good.
By the way, I used to work at a grocery story, then later a dairy. I could tell some funny stories. Yours reminded me of those olden days of mine… I kept picturing you trying to juggle watermelons for some reason.
Lenore used to work in a grocery store.
You should tell THAT story, Lenore.
haven’t we all worked at a grocery store? it’s a rite of passage. i became a woman the day i got that job.
come again?
First of all, http://www.daleandthomaspopcorn.com.
It’s the best, and they ship. No embarrassing trips to the 7-11, Lenore, just imagine it. Popcorn delivered discreetly right to your door. You don’t want this to stop, and you know it. Eating the popcorn feels too good. Normal is boring.
Secondly, thank god you wrote something. I was really close to giving up on the internet.
Finally, I shop at two grocery stores. One for produce and beer, the other is Wal-Mart and shit-damn it’s cheap, like me. The other day I was in my produce/beer store, stocking up on beer, and I noticed that the frozen pizzas I usually buy at Wal-Mart were on sale for $2 cheaper, PER PIZZA, then I can get them at Wal-Mart. I knew I had room in the freezer for at least 8, probably I could squeeze 10. I mean, that’s a hell of a deal and I eat these things on the regular, so…I was financially obligated to purchase them, a lot of them, right then. And also a lot of beer, because I’d be in town too often if I didn’t buy that in large quantities as well. (Town is 30 miles away and it takes 50 minutes to get there.) So I bought three cases of beer and 10 frozen pizzas. The checker did notice, I saw her eyebrow go up. I pretended not to know that there was anything unusual about my purchase and was extra-friendly. Next time I’m in there for veggies, though, I hope she’s there. If she is I’ll be checking out with her. I will wear the same distinctive hat so she’ll have a better chance of remembering me.
that one is easy, jess. just tell the lady you’re having a pizza and beer party.
i don’t want to have popcorn delivered to my house. i really don’t. i really really don’t. i actually hate having food in there. it makes me feel like i’m surrounded.
I AM SO HEALTHY!
Okay, we haven’t been formally introduced, because, well, I’m new.
But in your mental tangling with obsessions, I can relate. I spent a whole summer avoiding clerks I knew at the plant nursery a couple blocks from my house. I was there every day, sometimes twice a day. Sometimes for hours. I bought a plant or didn’t, or I was just looking, but it got bad enough that I would think about going to the nursery, freak myself out because everyone knew me there, decide I couldn’t go, change my mind, change my mind again, and end up going to a different sister nursery where the staff didn’t know me.
And without fail, when I was back at my haunt, my nursery (because one feels possessive after this level of craziness) someone would say, “Wow. You’re here a lot.” Deadpan. Eyebrows raised. Curious at how anyone who wasn’t paid to be there could possibly spend as much time as I did. It was a reasonable question.
People still comment to me now when I go back there, but it’s the other way: “It sure has been a long time…” Maybe they miss making fun of me.
i can’t tell you how endearing i find it that your feverish obsession that causes you humiliation happens to be for…plants. that’s so freaking sweet for some reason.
nice to meet you. and your name is awesome.
Ahhhhhh, Lenore.
I love that you have made up crippled children that you abuse. You are the best.
As for the food obsession, I’ve had that ever since I was a child. I would only eat one thing for months on end, and it would range anywhere from tacos to lox and bagels (no capers, sorry Duke) to scrambles eggs to only avocados.
As for lying, I think you’re a master, even though you claim you suck at it, it brings all of us so much joy and guffaws.
avocados seem to be a popular one. i do love guacamole. but avocado alone is too thick and creamy and heavy. i need it mixed up with other shit. or with balsamic vinegar. man, that is good. my mom opened my eyes to mango with balsamic vinegar, and my life got better for it. you should try that. so good. not a lie, i swear.
My brother is high up at Stater Brothers, one of California’s finest grocery establishments. He used to be in produce, so I just have him bring stuff home, that way I don’t look like a freak and i get the good stuff from the back (yes, the produce guys and the meat department guys hide the good stuff in the back for employees.) Right now I’m on avocado’s. I love those buttery fuckers, and they’re 10 for $10 right now. 10 for $10! Only at the heartland, Stater Brothers ©. My brother picks 3 ripe ones and 7 unripe ones and we line them up on the counter in order of ripeness. Don’t even get me started on white nectarine season, or jalapeno cheddar cheetos. I think my point is to force one of your roommates to get a job at 7-11 or the grocery store, then you don’t even have to go to the store and duel with punk rock chick.
Oh, and my brother says they totally make fun of customers who buy the same thing every day, so that should make you feel better.
i made fun of people’s purchases every time i’ve worked at a store. the grocery store, blockbuster, the pizza place i worked, etc. i always made fun of them. that’s how i made myself feel better for having to serve them.
i hate serving people. i should be queen. and people should bring me things.
Loved this, and thank God it made me laugh on a very bad Monday.
I have food compulsions, too. Like I can eat Apple Jacks for every meal for about a month, and then suddenly need a Filet-O-Fish sandwich with fries and a Hi-C orange drink.
The whole meal. It has to be the whole thing or I won’t be sated.
I’ve always been a healthy-eater (read: face-stuffer). I can out-eat most of my guy friends. I once won a Personal Pan Pizza eating contest by eating 11 of the suckers.
The point: I like food. And I liked your post.
And on that note I’m off to the vending machine to get some Sun Chips–my current obsession.
i’m glad to have helped make your monday a little better.
and let me tell you, french fries are absolutely one of my problem foods. i have no control over myself when it comes to french fries. and i get possessive of them, too. i am not good at sharing.
however, i’m not sure i can get behind the hi-c. i’ve never been a hi-c drinker, though. maybe you have to start in childhood.
Lenore - so good to see you back. I was saying to Zara just yesterday that it’s been a while since you posted and SSE…here you are!
Very funny story - shades of a Seinfeld episode there… Love the lying. Isn’t that always the way with lying - that you start a story and it gets bigger and absurder by the minute!
I think your dealings with the checkout operators are a good reason why they should be replaced by robots. No more lying, no more avoiding… you can buy what you like - guilt-free.
there are a number of things that would be better if robots replaced humans. i also think that government workers could largely be replaced by robots. the people at the post office or the DMV could probably be robots. and then they wouldn’t have bad attitudes. and the lines would move faster. i’m behind this movement, 100%. great idea.
But aren’t government workers already robots?
they are much stupider.
Robots frighten me.
That’s a pretty zany addiction you got there.
I too love popcorn, and while white cheddar is pretty high atop my list in terms of mass-produced corn, I prefer to make it myself. My folks even got me a Genuine Whirley-Pop Amish Popcorn Popper, which I must admit, is one of the most useful gifts I’ve been given, mostly because I make it at least twice a week. I always use 1 part butter, one part olive oil and then various combinations of garlic or onion salt, Mrs. Dash, parsley and seasoned salt. I tried one of their suggested recipes which was called Italian Garlic Bread-flavored popcorn, which included basil, oregano, garlic salt and freshly grated Parmesan.
My only other addiction as of late is that I’ve been sneaking it into theatres due in part to my anarchical tendencies as well as the fact that I don’t like to pay insane prices for substandard popped corn. Some say I’m cheap, which in certain areas I definitely am, but in this one, I will just not bow to butter-sopped corn that has that butter-flavored salt poured all over it.
As for you, be happy that you aren’t obsessed with Slim Jims, Combos or pork rinds, all of which I tend to procure when on road trips.
Have you ever cooked a slim jim with a lighter? I saw it on The Soup, and I’ll never go back to eating an uncooked slim jim again.
Wow, Phat B. That never occurred to me. The next time I have both a lighter and SJ in my possession at the same time, it’s a done deal.
Potato chips burn quite nicely, too.
too much effort. if someone wants to burn my slim jims and chips for me, i’ll eat them that way, but if i’m on my own, they’re going down as they’re bagged by the companies that manufacture them.
you spend a lot of time making stuff for yourself as opposed to buying the finished product, don’t you kip? this is a trend i’ve noticed in you. popcorn, pretzels…
i am lazy. and i think i shouldn’t have to do anything for myself. so i don’t do that so much. but my father is always telling me that the people who do things for themselves are the “good” people. so i should probably be more like you. then i would be good.
also, i really really like slim jims.
If I am one of the “good” ones based solely on this criterion, then I am a damn good person. I would intuit that I probably could stand to do more for other people.
Also, I do cook a lot, and am innately inquisitive about how stuff works (howstuffworks.com is a great site), and since I was a starving artist in Europe for some time, every time something piqued my interest food-wise, I wondered how easy or hard it would be to not only make it, but make it better. So far I am fairing well in this area.
i’d argue that you are definitely a damn good person.
This was god damned hilarious. I love reading you.
I think you should hide your shameful popcorn under gay porn magazines, Swisher Sweets, those lighters that look like guns, and condoms. That would throw the clerk off your scent!
thank you for the advice. i usually get all that stuff after church, but i suppose i could buy my gay porn/cigar/lighter/sexual paraphernalia stuff during my popcorn runs.
Aw man. This is the kinda fun stuff I miss out on when I can’t get to the Breakdown on the regular. Great tale, Lenore. Please tell me you made up the part about telling the cashier you left your kid at home because s/he was in a wheelchair. Puhleeeease tell me that you never uttered those words!
This story reminds me of an alcoholic I knew who told the officer she couldn’t be drunk because she only drank two beers. Turned out she only bought and drank two at a time but spent the whole day driving back and forth to the mini-market.
I think you might have a problem and should probably book a session with yourself to see what it is. For me, I’m well aware of my problem. I have no willpower and crumble under the power of sughgestion. I’m going to leave the library and head straight to the 7-11 for some cheese popcorn.
This is totally gonna ruin my diet.
Thanks a lot, Zion.
i made an appointment to see myself for some therapy, but i no-showed for the visit. i’m really annoyed at myself.
cheesy popcorn is a great reason to ruin a diet. it really is. few things taste as good. the problem is the way it possesses a person. i mean, really, it’s hard to stop eating that stuff. really hard.
did the officer let your alcoholic friend off with a warning, or did she get in trouble?
Several warnings (she’s really pretty,)a few DUIs, a couple stints in rehab, and she still proclaims it was just a couple of beers every now and then.
I think you should call yourself and have a discussion about respect. Your time is too valuable for you not to show up for yourself.
So Lenore, I say, to keep myself from going back to the freezer for Roselani Haupia (coconut) ice cream, sold only in half-gallons (which means never having to look the checker in the eye and tell some lie when it’s 10 PM and the only thing I’m buying is a half-gallon rather than a pint of ice cream), have you ever heard the riddle my father used to think was funny?
What fruit starts with W and ends with P?
You got it.
Very, very funny piece. I too love the children left at home.
I kicked my cheddar popcorn habit years ago, but damned if I can remember how I did, meaning of course what I replaced it with.
On the subject of popcorn, are you one of the people who cannot stand the odor of microwave “buttered” popcorn? I am. I have to leave the room, or even the house. It makes me want to puke — it’s a strong physical reaction. I thought it was just me, but a few years ago I read that the actual substance — I’m too lazy to look it up — that’s used for the butter flavor, has that effect on some people and not others. And that some of the workers in some of those plants were harmed by the substance.
I think it’s chickenshit to allege something and then admit to being too lazy to look it up.
So here’s what seems to be a reasonably straightforward account of it. The business about the workers is towards the bottom.
I don’t dare Google “cheddar popcorn” + lawsuit.
Time for more ice cream. Perhaps Red Bull ice cream is what I need today.
The link:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4536217/
Don:
First, I love that due to a typo in that story you linked to, it reads like ‘people cried and hugged the litigant’s wife’ - just a bunch of random people, maybe from off the street.
Second, there’s a place over here that does a variety of different ice-creams - Mars Bar ice cream, for instance. They once had Red Bull gelati and it was one of the greatest things I have ever tasted.
i have never enjoyed red bull, but i’m definitely going to have to get some coconut ice cream. maybe i’ll get that instead of white cheddar popcorn and i’ll have a new habit. i’m starving. hi simon.
There may be inferior coconut ice cream out there — I’m sure there is.
But you want Roselani (made on Maui) or Hilo Homemade (made in Hilo).
Then there’s real haupia, which is coconut pudding. You want the kind from the Hilo Farmers Market.
Code for the nearest airport is ITO.
must have.
Also, mango-coconut sticky rice, which features an entire fresh flayed half-mango draped over the coconut sticky rice.
Then, there’s getting a green coconut, whacking the top off with a machete, drinking all the water inside (loaded with electrolytes) and then breaking the coconut open, breaking off a piece of the shell, and using that piece as the spoon to scoop out the soft coconut inside . . . .
you’re killing me here. i want all of these foods.
They got Girl Scout Cookie Ice Cream right now in the stores, and one of the flavors is Samoas, which is chock full of artificial coconut goodness. Not that I watched last nights “House” with a carton between my thighs or anything…
We had soy sauce ice cream the other day. It was succulent and exquisite.
(home made, naturally)
There’s an ice cream maker near me in upstate NY who makes sweet curry ice cream, and also habanero-vanilla ice cream.
The soy sauce ice cream sounds pretty good to me.
oh my god. i want that ice cream so badly. that sounds so good. i’m a sucker for coconut anything.
and YES! i cannot stand the smell of microwave popcorn. it’s repulsive to me. makes my stomach turn. i hate it hate it hate it. i don’t have a microwave anymore. somehow i’ve gone about two and a half years without one. so it’s not even an option in my house. and i swear, i got rid of it because people always seem to want to make that shit in there. ugh bleh bleh bleh. i am so with you.
Okay, now that I am done cackling . . . this was amazing. Just what I needed!
I spent about 10 years of my life basically planning my next meal at all times, and all the things I could not eat if I wanted to be able to indulge in that elaborately planned next meal, and going days at a time where all I ate was chocolate frozen yogurt, or plain bagels, or–yes–avocados, because I was so obsessed with them that nothing else would do. The object of my obsession was often not something anyone else really cared about, like, say, dry Cheerios. But I would eat an entire box in one sitting like it was a fucking box of chocolate truffles. It was crazy, and totally beyond my control, and really embarrassing, and parts of it were very funny in retrospect, and parts still not so much.
My advice to you if you really want to end your food obsessions and unhealthy relationship with food? Really HAVE those 3 fake kids. Especially the one in the wheelchair since that one won’t be able to get around the house very well and you’ll have to wait on him hand and foot for longer than the ones who learn to walk. Let me tell you, even though my 3 kids do all walk, I spend so fucking much time in the kitchen preparing snacks and meals for them, with all their various likes and dislikes, and packing their lunches, and cleaning their slimy little kid-dishes, that food in general just seems like another household chore now. I don’t even know what to say. I mean, yeah, I still get hungry like the next girl and eat food, obviously, and I enjoy a good meal if I’m out at a great sushi restaurant or something. But I never really think about food anymore in daily life, in either an anxious or rhapsodic way. Whereas every moment I’m not in a kitchen or a grocery store or actually handling something edible is like a gift from freaking god or something and I want to do a dance.
The moral: kids are the cure to food disorders, kind of like you could cure a fear of rats by being buried in a huddle of them for a few weeks, until you were so numbed out to the whole deal you wouldn’t even blink.
Those kids of mine come with some other benefits too . . .
The downside is that kids are more expensive than cheese popcorn, alas. Hopefully this will be a big deterrent to you, otherwise Irene is going to kick my ass for goading you into unwed motherhood-of-three.
Meanwhile, OMG, you ran a marathon?! I thought you were a slacker like me! I’m sort of freaked out right now. My world view in under serious threat.
Excellent point, Gina. Once one of my kids really likes a certain food, even if it’s something I like, I associate it with kids food and don’t want to eat it anymore. I will never eat another ravioli as long as I live, for example.
i *almost* ran a marathon. blew my knee out at mile 23. can’t run anymore. oh well.
but really? the kids just solved the problem? totally solved? i just don’t see my neuroses that easily overpowered. i’ll probably be a really selfish mother and allow my neuroses to be a greater influence in my life than my childrens’ well being. who knows, really? i’m glad that you’re not. you’re a good mom.
i wish you could come to LA and make me snacks.
Well, I’d totally already been in therapy twice before I became a mom, and I think things had already started to improve . . . but in the sense of my still having the obsessive impulses, just learning to control them better, prior to the kids. I mean, I had passed the point of actually only eating frozen yogurt for days and eating it in such quantities that I felt ill . . . I hadn’t done that kind of thing in a few years by then. But what I had not passed was still THINKING about food all the time, even if my actual eating habits had seemingly normalized, from the outside.
Once I adopted twins, my life changed so radically that I just don’t remember thinking a great deal about food anymore. Instead, I thought (think) almost obsessively about SLEEP. I mean, you know what my life looks like: I edit a book press, work at 2 universities, am doing the Fiction Section here at TNB, have my own collection coming out, and I have 3 kids under the age of 10 and do not actually have any outside childcare. I’m trying to work 5 jobs, basically, during the 30 hour week all 3 of my kids are out of the house in school (Giovanni in preschool) and I am constantly on the verge of a complete collapse of stress. Meanwhile, when my kids are home, I am being the proverbial Dago mom, pelting them with home-cooked food and having all their friends over all the time so I usually have more like 4-7 kids in the house than 3. By the time the kids are asleep, David and I run around like crazy people cleaning up after the day’s mayhem, and then I have to go try to catch up on the 5 million things I didn’t get done for work that day, and then somewhere in all of that I have to find the energy for sex and to have conversations with my husband and other adult friends, which I know makes me happy but sometimes I simply can’t manage. And then when I finally permit myself to go to bed, I suffer from raging insomnia and always have, my entire life, except that now no matter what, my kids are still going to be up at fucking 6am, even on the weekends.
So . . . yes, it’s true. I kind of don’t give a rat’s ass about food anymore. But I could write a companion piece to yours about sleep, and trying to sleep under my dining room table once when the girls were small.
I do think food issues are kind of like being in AA, in some ways, in that “once an addict, always an addict” thing. I would not be surprised if once my kids are grown, some of these issues re-emerge. In fact, Aimee Liu wrote an entire memoir about that, I think, though hopefully my issues will be comparatively minor next to hers and a TNB post will suffice, ha.
you are not human, m’lady. no human can do that much.
I completely agree. So true. And I will never eat macaroni and cheese ever again.
Lenore:
I think it’s high time you introduce punk rock grocery girl to that midget that was terrorizing you. I think they’d make a lovely couple.
hahahaha. they’d definitely have a kid in a wheelchair.
Oh! I’m laughing so hard now! That was so totally wrong!!
Ha ha ha!!! My sides hurt, I’m laughing so much!
You know what would be funny? If we could round up three kids to be your fake kids, and bring them to the grocery store. Just once. Just to see the look on her heavy-eyelinered face. That’ll larn her.
(Note to Ben Stiller: yes, I’m sure this is a scene from Meet the Parents V).
Oooo, better yet, get a wheelchair and wheel me in as your kid. You can say I’ve got that aging child disorder. And you’ll have to come up eith a psychosomatic explanation for my constant giggling. I can’t tell a joke with a straight face.
i’ll just use the three i kidnapped.
great story! your mom told me to read it after giving me a 4lb bag of m&ms and other food items that made my carry on luggage really heavy. i had to ask someone to help me lift it up and i kept imagining it exploding and all of the m&ms spraying all over everyone.
that’s odd. why did she give you all those m&ms? she doesn’t give me anything.
I also gave her snickers.
They were all from Thanksgiving cause all you damn kids said you were going to make all these cookies that NONE of you made and I needed to buy these ingredients and I STILL have 10 pounds of chocolate chips. Seriously. Two five pound bags from Costco.
I’m mailing them to you.
Hi Lenore - You don’t know me but I’ve read your hilarious posts on TNB for a while now, not because I’m creepy, but because my friend (R Kent ) used to post here and then I just became addicted. So now I have favorite TNB writers, you being one of them. I thought I’d take this opportunity to let you know that because my mother is obsessed with white cheddar popcorn. It just seemed appropriate to let you know that you are not alone in your infatuation.
Once again, hilarious.
i am so incredibly flattered! and where is R Kent? we miss him around these parts. you tell him to come back already.
and tell your mom i’m sorry that she is sharing in this horrible white cheddar popcorn obsession.
thanks for commenting. you made my day.
Oh good! Glad I made your day.
As for R. Kent, he is far, far away in Paris with his lovely wife and child. The only communication we share these days is an e-mail every once in a blue moon. But I should encourage him to start posting here again!
Lenore, this is a great story. I am almost thirty-seven and actually have three children who like the dark, watermelons, and being at home in front of the TV rather than the grocery store. Nice work!
mende, i can see you living in a giant watermelon. you’re sorta watermelon-esque. in a good way, in case there’s any confusion.
Good grief people
don’t you know when
a psychologist is playing
mind tricks on you?
This is just performance art
and subliminal chicanery.
There is no watermelon or white cheddar popcorn.
She even told you
she was an evil psychologist!
It’s midnight and I am eating
cinnamon crunch with chocolate milks.
such a whistle blower!
I’m layin’
on this
whistle
missy.
I’ve always been a bit of a food jag person but it got really crazy several years ago when I had an unexplained illness. All kinds of weird symptoms and very little appetite. For about six months all I ate was hummus. And it had to be from a particular restaurant. They started selling it to at a discount in a quart container. So I totally get the people noticing thing. Although they were always really nice. I think it was because I looked like shit & they could tell it was the only thing I was eating. Surprisingly, I still really like hummus and I always get that particular hummus when I’m in New Orleans.
i read this when i was really sleepy and i thought you were writing “humans” as opposed to “hummus.” that was pretty amazing.
i love hummus. and humans. for different reasons.
Ha!! Whole different ‘illness’ if I had been eating humans. But then maybe the doctors would have taken my symptoms more seriously and I’d have been diagnosed sooner.
Lenore, step away from the humans. They aren’t part of the buffet.
Which restaurant? Lebanon’s was always my favorite for hummus and other Middle Eastern food.
A close relative of Lebanon, Mona’s. My backyard butted up against the back of the Magazine St location. In good weather my house smelled of falafel. And one time the cook & I rescued a woman trapped in the crack house next to mine. We were the only ones around in the middle of the day to hear her tortured screams. But that’s a story for another time…
Oh, and I will totally come to LA and make you snacks. My kids are obsessed with popcorn too, btw!
i should hope so, gina. i need your snacks.
Very funny and very overdue.
It seems like the problem isn’t watermelon or white cheddar but rather frequency. Frequency is the problem. This is my problem with smoking and sex as well. Not those things, but their frequency. What is your thesis on, BTW?
As for snippy convenience store workers, you don’t even need to lie! Just state facts: “Working at 7-11, pal, means you gots bigger problems than a white cheddar popcorn dependency.”
i’d use their employment at 7-11 against them, but i fear that i’ll be even less employed come this fall when i’m finished with school. then i have nothing to hide behind.
and smoking isn’t so bad. lots of pretty women smoke.
Her thesis is on paraphilias, Megan. Lenore and I bonded when we met in person and the word “paraphilia” arose.
this is hilarious. i get embarrassed when people notice i eat the same breakfast and lunch every day. i know they’re just trying to be nice by saying, “the usual?” but it makes me paranoid. and what if want something different that day?
see i love being a regular with a usual. it makes me feel like a celebrity. think of it like that. you’re just so important that they remember what you like.
I just read this out loud to Scott and spat several times in a combination of combustive laughing and salivation over your watermelon and white cheddar popcorn story. Now I have to fucking clean my computer screen, thanks to you - and I just got it yesterday. Your story just ruined my new Mac. I hope you’re happy.
why on earth did you have so much saliva in your mouth to begin with?
Henry Rollins used to come into my Trader Joe’s (West Hollywood) and buy multiple bags of white cheddar popcorn every week. He loved it. You’re in good company.
I love watermelon. I also love your writing. You make me laugh and laugh.
What a great read. The horrors of cashier conversations have never been so succinctly rendered.
FYI, my own experience has shown me that when someone brings an unwanted conversation your way at the grocery store, simply pick up any food item and start speaking into it as if it’s a cell phone. But be polite and explain to the real person that you need to take this call.