My fridge is a little bit broken. Not full-on, throw out your food and scream at the landlord broken, but a little. It’s been not that cold in there for days. I threw out the milk on Monday; we stopped having ice on Tuesday. It’s mildly broken, and as I timidly wait for landlord-salvation, I’m forced to wonder about the lingering edibility of my foodstuffs. The milk was out, but what about the eggs? Has my squash gone off? The Greek yogurt is a lost cause, but it’s been lost for long enough that I’m afraid to confirm my suspicions.
Unsure about what to insert in my stomach at breakfast time—very important because it provides an excuse to drink coffee—I ate a big bowl of apple sauce. It takes an act of Congress to make that stuff spoil. It’s basically predigested as is. The trouble with apple sauce, though, is that there is no less filling food. It’s the fruit equivalent of Taco Bell cinnamon twists. (Only 20% fat, according to the website!) Eating apple sauce is like eating more hunger. Though it distracted me for a moment, I’m now at a loss.
Perhaps you’re unconvinced. As evidence of my state, I will tell you briefly of a dream my unconscious spat up last night. As I am somewhat less than an absolute narcissus, I will keep the telling brief. I dreamt that my uptown barbarian friend threw himself a birthday party, laying out $50,000 in cash to entertain his closest hundred or so friends. There is much fun to be had with such a bankroll, you would think, when the unconscious is allowed to run wild. What scenes of lavish, fantastic, mind-altering decadence did my brain come up with?
An open bar. And a long buffet.
In fairness, it was some smorgasbord: 100 yards long, and overflowing with Indian food, Southern breakfast, steaks, fall-off-the-bone chicken and Kansas City ribs. No matter how many people grazed, the chefs refilled it. My brick-fisted buddy was clearly determined to get his money’s worth.
On waking I was as disappointed as Little Nemo to find nothing in my kitchen but questionable eggs. Perhaps it is time to start yelling at my landlord.