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 misspelling 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.
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.