I haven’t said the word “sausage” for going on 15 years.  It’s a personal protest, don’t worry about it.  Unless I’m struggling to order a pizza, this usually doesn’t present a problem.  Of course, there was that time I worked at Chuck E. Cheese all four years of high school, where pizza and little kids accidentally peeing in the tube slide were the only topics of conversation. Eventually, I got it down to a fine science, where I would simply nod and point to the menu on the wall behind me and say, “Ok, so, you want this one then?”

Now that I reminisce, that truly was a dream job.  Aside from being permanently sick, due to filthy, germ-coated everything, I squandered my days away by mispelling kids’ names on chocolate birthday cakes so I could eat them, while flirting with the game table hottie.  Things couldn’t get much better.  Why I ever left remains one of the biggest mysteries of my life.

Speaking of breakfast food, let’s talk about Kenny. 

So Kenny and I are hanging out and discussing everything that is important in life.  As usual, at some point, the conversation takes a random turn down a long, winding road and we end up in a place that I’ve never been before.  Nor do I ever want to go again.  It’s some sort of a lonely wheat field, or abandoned Waffle House - there’s no way of knowing.  And the following conversation takes place:

Kenny:  I mean, he was like this guy that just smelled like maple syrup.

Me:  Someone can’t smell like maple syrup.

Kenny:  Oh, someone can.  And they did. 

Me: That’s ridiculous.  You know that’s ridiculous right?

Kenny:  It’s ridiculously true.

Me: But that makes no sense.  Did he just get back from IHOP or something?

Kenny:  [shaking his head with a very defeated look on his face]  No…he just smelt like it permanently.  What’s worse is people who smell like maple syrup and pee.

Me: Who smells like pee?  No one smells like pee.  Did he work in a nursery?

Kenny:  I’m not exactly sure.  But he smelt like breakfast. 

Me: …..

Kenny:  I just… I hate people who smell like breakfast.

Me:  Maple syrup smells delicious.  I wish everyone smelt like maple syrup.  This kid used to sit behind me after lunch and he reaked of ketchup.

Kenny:  [laughs]  What?  Ketchup? Why?

Me:  Cus all he ate was fries at lunch.  Well see, now you understand why I can’t eat condiments.

Kenny:  Well, maple syrup is just completely ruined for me. [Sigh]  I used to love that stuff.

 

How We Met

How to Talk Yourself Out of Dating Almost Anyone

A Conversation at Starbucks

A Metrosexual in a Yankees hat

A Bad Gordita and Some Classy Water