At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Sunday, January 01, 2017


Not having had enough sleep between Friday and Saturday, it would not have been wise to over-extend myself Saturday night. Which, in that it was New Years eve, naturally required a sound head and a full brain. But I was temperate, and restrained my bestial nature. Two pipes, two whiskies, and a lackadaisical attempt to get nearby people to sing 'Old Lang Syne'.

I failed.

I myself don't sing, and you may thank me. The fabric of the universe will rend if I sing in public. I shall use that power wisely and seldom.

Some time between twelve and one o'clock I gibbered about Kim Jong-un's fabulous current hairstyle. Hipster goobus.

When I got back to my neighborhood, I discovered that the Mexican selling grilled bacon-dogs and onions by the side of the road had run out of pickled jalapeños. He looked shell-shocked. I believe he may have been mobbed by people high on life, good cheer, mom the flag and apple pie, and the curvaceous gams of all the young ladies on any age who decided that a cold night was the perfect time to go out partying in mini dresses.

If I were a perky blonde or Latina, I too would make that rash decision.

I might look killer in sex death stiletto heels.

But, being a mature dude, I have the wisdom not to do that. High heeled pumps are bad for your back, and if you dance in those things your entire body will ache the next day. No amount of pink champagne and hot savoury grilled bacon dog (and condiments) can save you.
Or pickled jalapeños.

For some reason I remembered the last winter the company was in the building on Bush Street. In the week between Christmas and New Year the office was empty, except for Customer Service (one person), and the Operations Department (one person), as well as myself. The three of us were supposed to be there half-days only, but I would spend most of the day at the office, because due to a lack of female companionship I was perfectly okay by myself in a quiet place.

Now, I should mention that all through December the giftbaskets from sales rep companies, advertising agencies, consultants, and favoured customers kept rolling in. Colleagues had become fat and sassy off hickory sticks, brie, cheeseballs, chockies, jelly gobblers, and cookies. And fruit cakes. And crunchy mint bars. And all the fatty things that America feels are celebratorily appropriate.

So there was stuff to snack on, but the best things had already been eaten.

At one point, when I silently passed by the kitchen, I heard Mr. Kulin (the ops person) saying to no one in particular "chocolate covered bacon, what", and I paused. A few seconds later he muttered "mmm, nasty".
When he said that he sounded just so disillusioned.

He did not know that I was listening in.

I'm glad he took one for the team.

I appreciated the warning.

Chocolate bacon.


A day earlier I had looked at that package of bacon strips enrobed in dark chocolate, and contemplated eating the entire package for lunch. I am very glad I didn't even open it. Instead I had a tub of cheesy goo and a packet of thyme crackers. With some Sriracha from the fridge.

Last night, after enjoying my bacon wrapped dog in the cold, I went home and had a delicious truffle. First bacon, THEN some chocolate. This is what experience teaches you. Never have them in the same bite.

It would have been better with jalapeño chips.

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


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

Newer›  ‹Older