THE LAST OF THE MEXICAN DEATH WURST

I'm blaming white people for this. And I should've known better. White folks tend to eat with political correctness and neurosis. You know, all responsible and pure hearted.
Vegetarian. Even vegan.
Idiots.

I had stopped by the market to pick up some comestibles, as I intended to have a clean and morally upstanding break from the hell-sausage mentioned in previous posts. Three evenings of punishing my system was starting to wear on me.
Let's see: cream cheese. Rice stick noodles. Some lovely white wheat noodles from Fuzhou. A jar of garlic chili paste. A green thing that was edible. Crisp apples. Oh yeah, this was going to be good.
And cracked pepper smoked wild salmon.
The cream cheese suggested it.

Plus 2 large bags of bacon and cheddar potato skin snack chips (TGIF).
Those weren't for me.

My former girlfriend (Savage Kitten), who is still my housemate (separate room!) and an all-round decent person, had been wailing for weeks that Tom's Bacon Cheddar Fries could no longer be found within a ten mile radius of our apartment. Oh woe!
She was quite bereft.
Disaster.

So over the past several days I've purchased possible alternatives.
These things looked like they might do in a pinch.
Bacon, cheddar - what's not to like?

She thanked me kindly for bringing the addictive items into the house and ate half a bag.
Happily padded back to her room in her jammies and fell asleep.
It was a large bag, so there was plenty left.

Slight sidetrack:  you can tell a household that likes its snacks by the number of medium size black binder clips lying around. Not only are they useful for closing up plastic sacks of rice stick or wheat noodles, but they also work fine for crispy things.
We've got tons of them.

Anyhow.

I spooned-over the cracked pepper salmon with the cream cheese, added a little balsamic vinegar and olive oil for smooshability plus some capers and chili flakes, intending to have a meat-free healthy vegetarian repast. That's why I didn't mix in any bacon bits (real bacon!), as I normally might have done. Adjusted the taste with a touch of salt and a pinch of sugar, and smeared it on toast.
There were no bagels, you see, but I had toast.

Had some of the TGIF bacon cheddar skin snack chips on the side.

After which there was still a substantial amount left over.

The night was still young - only eight PM.

Apparently you should NEVER nacho-ize these bacon cheddar skins.
At least not with pepper jack, pickled jalapenos.....
And crumbled greasy-fried linguiça.

On the plus side, by two A.M. it had entirely escaped my mind that I am loveless and without anyone to hug, all alone, no girlfriend, no affection, and turning sour and sharp in my middle age.

On the minus side, it's now sixteen hours since dinner, and I still have an insistent throbbing in both my head and my abdomen. The light in the office seems to be flickering on and off, and my hands are sweating.
I don't think I'll be eating any lunch today.
Just go home and sleep.

Don't even think of vegetarian muck again. As the waiter in the Chinese diner asked the young pasty-faced white woman last week, "you want the vegetable special with chicken or pork?"
See, he understood that a person craves animal protein.
It ain't satisfying otherwise.

Tomorrow I'll go into Chinatown for some nice soothing rice porridge.
I look forward to lunch in the neighborhood on weekends.
It settles the stomach after a week of whiteness.
Cures the bloated feeling, too.


==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================