Narrative #1This is a classic story of boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy ends up alone with a chicken sate salad and some fruity iced tea.
When we first met, I guess she was taken by my normal-ness; I was a regular guy, who worked the nine to five, enjoyed a beer after work and would watch the news before going to bed. A perfect, normal, boring routine. Safe, I guess.
But before too long, this became too normal for her. Suddenly I wasn't exciting enough. I did the same thing every day, she said. I watched the same shows, she said. I'd eat and drink the same thing all the time, she said. Safe had somehow become redundant.
So she left. There was nothing special about the break up, at least not at first. I was happy with my life, so who cares what she thought, right?
So one week later, as I pick up the phone to order a pizza, beer in hand, news on the TV, I realize that I was tired of my life as well. Time for a change.
I head out the door and head for the nearest grocery store; I don't know what I want, I just know I don't want it to be something she'd expect me to get. I pass by the the pop aisle and wind up staring at an exotic fruit iced tea; she wouldn't expect me to get that, right? I wander aimlessly, passing by taco kits, frozen dinners, etc....
Next thing I know, I'm at the cash register with the iced tea and something called chicken sate salad. Usually I get my Asian food delivered and with a complimentary fortune cookie, so I know this is unfamiliar territory.
I mindlessly hand a fifty over to the cashier; I don't bother to count the change. Dazedly, I walk home wondering what the hell just happened. What did I just buy? I've never had anything so foreign in my grocery bag before....
As I walk, I dig out the receipt to make sure that I wasn't dreaming, or high, and that I had indeed bought two things that had never existed in my vocabulary before. Yep, there they are.
I get home, mix the iced tea and set the salad on the table. After staring at these strange objects on my kitchen table for five minutes, I decide it's time to give them a try... and am surprised at how much I like it. Huh, who knew?
Sure, I didn't jet off to Istanbul and take up belly dancing, but it's a start, right?
Narrative #2
Ode to receipt #3
Among my papers, and other things,
A receipt, I did find,
Notarized and signed,
But it was not in mind,
Not at this time.
This chicken; thighs, breasts or wings?
No! Twas a salad, of the satay type,
And a drink, of iced tea, for sure.
But no fruits, fresh and ripe?
This, the receipt did concur,
Was indeed my purchase,
Or at least it was, on the surface....
Was this meal delicious?
Was I satisfied, at least?
Was I conscious?
Was it part of a feast?
This long lost and mysterious receipt,
I fear, may be a deceit.
A cruel trick, to confuse the mind,
To make me doubt,
And pace about,
And finally go out,
And emit this shout;
Begone, you foul, confusing find!
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