A FEAR OF LOBSTERS IS NOT AN ATTRACTIVE PERSONALITY TRAIT

As you realize, I lead a very quiet life, and never stray into unknown territory. There is nothing I love more than giving my eighteen pussycats all the love and high-quality feline chow they need, and drinking cup after cup of soothing lukewarm chamomile tea while knitting.
It is restful, and non-threatening.

So, on my once-a-month trip to the nearby lunch counter for a treat, you can imagine my dismay at being told, by a complete stranger, notabene, "that looks like it needs some hot sauce; go for the crazy shit".

I am easily influenced, because I never disagree with people.

So I squirted Sriracha all over my grilled cheese.

Oh, the heart-ache! The Montezuma!

I think I feel palpitations!


---DOT--DOT--DOT---


All kidding aside, in real life I have no cats other than a stuffed Hello Kitty on my bed, the smell of kitty kibble is perfectly horrendous, and chamomile tea hasn't been in my cupboard for over a decade. Why it was there in the first place mystifies me, as neither my apartment mate nor I can stand the stuff.

To put it in her words:

"White people drink that crap!"

When pressed, she clarifies that it isn't all white folks, just the soft-in-the-head earthmama hippy-dips and folks with auras and past-lives as Inca princesses; people who are very special.
Not the sane Caucasians.

She concedes that indeed there are a few of those.

I flatter myself that I am included in that category, as I have no aura, have never been an Inca princess, to the best of my recollection have had no past lives, and am neither an earthpapa nor a hippy dip.
Just a normal man, nothing peculiar.


"That looks like it needs some hot sauce; go for the crazy shit."


That phrase about the hot sauce and craziness is also one of hers. I had made myself a grilled cheese sandwich, so she volunteered some sound advice. She knows me well. We never eat together, but we both tend to eat in the television room.


I am somewhat trepidatious about the concept of dating again, as I'm fairly certain most women don't go for the crazy shit. Eating should at times be an adventure, in my opinion, but having spent several years working at a restaurant three nights a week, I realize that most people are not very daring, and my coworkers at my day job during that time abundantly demonstrated that same fey timidity.

Besides, women are very fond of lettuce.

Which is hardly worth sharing.



I may have to borrow that phrase about the crazy shit sometime, substituting "lobster" for "hot sauce".

Trust me; lobster makes everything look better.



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