Salami and Eggs

On the telephone yesterday evening.

Beast:  How many eggs are too many for one person to eat in one day?

Foodie (whispering): I don’t know.  Maybe six.  No, four.

Beast:  Why are you whispering?

Foodie: Because I’m at work.

Beast:  What time are you coming home?

Foodie:  In about an hour.

Beast:  Can you pick up some bread?

Foodie:  What for?

Beast:  Because I’m making dinner and we’re having Jewish salami and eggs.

Foodie:  Why did you ask how many eggs are too much to eat in one day?

Beast:  Because I had Jewish salami and eggs for lunch.

Foodie:  What’s Jewish salami?

Beast:  It’s amazing that’s what it is.  It’s called Chicago 58 and it’s kosher.

The toilet flushes.

Foodie:  What was that?

Beast:  I just flushed the toilet.

Foodie: You just went to the bathroom while talking on the phone with me?

Beast: Yes.

Foodie: I think our relationship has just entered a new phase.

Beast:  A good or a bad phase?

Foodie: I haven’t decided yet.

When I got home about an hour later I heard the sound of a spaz beating drums with his bare hands coming from the upstairs.  I walked into the living room which had a pile of newspapers shoved under the coffee table, a baritone saxophone propped upright beside the fireplace and a some sort of metal drum pedal apparatus resting in the middle of the carpet.

Foodie (yelling to the upstairs): I’m going for a walk to pick up the next Deadwood DVD from the video place.

Beast: Okay. (Pause) Want me to come with you?

Foodie:  No.  It sounds like you’re in the middle of something quite interesting.  And this way, you’ll have time to finish tidying up down here.

Beast: Silence.

Before I left, I walked into the dining room to put down my book bag and looked around. I wondered how I had been in here a hundred times before and hadn’t noticed the piles of mess that I now saw everywhere. I also wondered why the mess was bothering me so much.

Then I walked to the video store looking down at my boots the whole way and talking myself out of losing my shit over a few piles of junk.  Then I thought, you are talking to yourself and dragging your feet and acting kind of crazy.  Just stop, would you?

When I got home, the living room had been tidied.  I breathed a sigh of relief because now I wouldn’t turn crazy.  Then I went upstairs where I found the Beast listening to funny-sounding music in the bedroom and reading a copy of something I wrote to enter in a short story contest.

Foodie:  What do you think?

Beast:  It’s good, but you didn’t provide enough description.

Foodie:  Yes I did–what about the part where I say, The sea looked like the Mediterranean.

Beast:  Yeah, that’s got to go.  And I meant descriptions about people: you don’t really describe the characters.

Foodie:  You’re right.  Thank you.  Thank you so much for reading it.

Beast: It was hurtful too.

Foodie:  What do you mean?

Beast:  The story is hurtful. It hurt me to read it.

Foodie:  Oh god, no!  But it’s fiction! (Pause)  And that was a long time ago.

Beast:  You’re a hurtful person!

Foodie:  Are you joking or being serious?

Beast:  Why do you ask?

Foodie:  Because you’re listening to funny-sounding music and–

Beast: It’s Portugese folk music!

Foodie: And you said, “you’re a hurtful person,” in a whiny retarded voice and you’re flailing your arms up and down like a girl.

Beast:  I’m kind of joking.  Did you see that I tidied the living room?

Foodie:  Thank you so much for doing that. You’re so thoughtful.

Beast: AND I’m making dinner tonight.

Foodie:  I know, I can’t believe it.  I’m so excited to eat this salami and egg thing.

Beast:  You’re going to love it!

And I did love it.  Actually, the Beast’s salami and eggs has been the best dinner we’ve eaten all week.  He even tidied up after.

Foodie:  ***

Beast: ***


Categories: Uncategorized

4 replies »

  1. Those orange sticks better not be cheez. I am pretty sure that combining kosher salami and day-glo dairy makes an angel vomit in heaven. Or something like that. Theology is not my strong suit.

    • Dude, those sticks aren’t just any cheese–they come from a block of “Our Compliments” cheddar from Sobey’s.
      There was also milk in the eggs.

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