In an unusual set of circumstances, I found myself both off from work and without my boys, on a Saturday and with absolutely no plans. Becoming bored by the afternoon, with no distractions, nothing worth watching on TV, and a desire to make a meal that didn't include hot dogs, I decided to invite Joe over for dinner.
I met Joe at shortly after I started working at Jolly's Donuts. The place was so new they barely had a functional kitchen, and Joe had been called in to install the industrial refrigeration system to replace the small home refrigerator they opened with.
Over the course of several weeks, we went from strangers to friends. It wasn't romantic, at least not for me. I think he had different ideas, but if he did, he kept them to himself. …show more content…
In between rounds of frying chicken, I set the table. After whipping the potatoes, and finishing the gravy, I added them to the growing mound of food spreading across the table. With a ding from my stove, I pulled the biscuits and pie from the oven, both golden brown. Smiling to myself, I placed the pie on the rack to cool, and the biscuits transferred to a bowl and placed on the table.
With the table set and the food all done, all that was left was to wait for Joe. Checking the time, I realized that 6 o'clock had come and gone during my activity. Going once more to the kitchen window, I watched the traffic sweep by my driveway, but no truck paused to enter.
Giving the floor a few quick paces while I waited for Joe, I continued to peek out the window whenever I reached that side of the room. By 6:30 I sat down in front of all the food wondering what to do. Should I keep it out, or put it all back in the oven to keep warm? The kitchen was thick with the aroma of food, and my stomach was grumbling in an insistent way, and I was beginning to feel some irritation along with …show more content…
From this angle I was in an excellent position to dig my head into his chest and chin, attempting to transfer as much of the guck to him as I could before he could slither away.
Locked hand in hand, we rolled around the kitchen floor, smearing each other, and everything we touched, with slimy potatoes. As slick as greased pigs, he was only briefly able to pin my hands to the floor. In retaliation, I began to shake my head violently back and forth, spraying him, and also, the table, the chairs, my walls and most definitely my floors, as my hair whipped back and forth. Sliding from his grip once more as he tried to avoid potato projectiles to his eyes.
Completely covered in ick, and digging potato out of the corner of his eye, he yelled "Truce!" Before flopping to the floor beside me.
Lying side-by-side on our backs in the center of my kitchen, covered head to toe in mashed potatoes, we stared straight up to the ceiling. Taking quick peeks at each other, laughing until our bellies hurt.
"Okay... okay..." Joe breathlessly asked,
I met Joe at shortly after I started working at Jolly's Donuts. The place was so new they barely had a functional kitchen, and Joe had been called in to install the industrial refrigeration system to replace the small home refrigerator they opened with.
Over the course of several weeks, we went from strangers to friends. It wasn't romantic, at least not for me. I think he had different ideas, but if he did, he kept them to himself. …show more content…
In between rounds of frying chicken, I set the table. After whipping the potatoes, and finishing the gravy, I added them to the growing mound of food spreading across the table. With a ding from my stove, I pulled the biscuits and pie from the oven, both golden brown. Smiling to myself, I placed the pie on the rack to cool, and the biscuits transferred to a bowl and placed on the table.
With the table set and the food all done, all that was left was to wait for Joe. Checking the time, I realized that 6 o'clock had come and gone during my activity. Going once more to the kitchen window, I watched the traffic sweep by my driveway, but no truck paused to enter.
Giving the floor a few quick paces while I waited for Joe, I continued to peek out the window whenever I reached that side of the room. By 6:30 I sat down in front of all the food wondering what to do. Should I keep it out, or put it all back in the oven to keep warm? The kitchen was thick with the aroma of food, and my stomach was grumbling in an insistent way, and I was beginning to feel some irritation along with …show more content…
From this angle I was in an excellent position to dig my head into his chest and chin, attempting to transfer as much of the guck to him as I could before he could slither away.
Locked hand in hand, we rolled around the kitchen floor, smearing each other, and everything we touched, with slimy potatoes. As slick as greased pigs, he was only briefly able to pin my hands to the floor. In retaliation, I began to shake my head violently back and forth, spraying him, and also, the table, the chairs, my walls and most definitely my floors, as my hair whipped back and forth. Sliding from his grip once more as he tried to avoid potato projectiles to his eyes.
Completely covered in ick, and digging potato out of the corner of his eye, he yelled "Truce!" Before flopping to the floor beside me.
Lying side-by-side on our backs in the center of my kitchen, covered head to toe in mashed potatoes, we stared straight up to the ceiling. Taking quick peeks at each other, laughing until our bellies hurt.
"Okay... okay..." Joe breathlessly asked,