His and Her Sandwiches

Arriving home from work and finding the Beast on the couch eating his dinner.

Foodie: Why are you only wearing underwear?

Beast: Because I just lifted my weights and I’m hot.

Foodie: You should shower.

Beast: I should shower? I can smell your feet from here, man!  Wash those things!

Foodie: We’re going on diets.

Beast: No.

Foodie: I’ve had loose morals regarding food in the last few weeks and it’s time to end it. What are you eating?

Beast: A summer sausage and cheese slice sandwich on white Wonderbread.

Foodie: I’m sorry I didn’t get home in time to eat dinner with you.

Beast: That’s okay: I have to leave anyway in about 15 minutes to get to a birthday party.

Foodie: Oh right.  Besides, I’m having diet food and you wouldn’t like it.

I’d picked up a piece of tilapia and a crusty bun in the hopes of constructing a fish sandwich like they do at the Fish Store on College. I also picked up one other thing that I feel funny about telling you: I picked up one of those shakers of spice. I have memories of some sort of lemon-pepper spice shaker thing that I used to sprinkle on fish sticks in high school and I really felt like that would add something to my fish sandwich.

Upstairs in the bedroom: the Beast is looking for a record to bring to the birthday party and I’m getting into afterwork clothes. 

Beast: What are you doing?

Foodie: Putting on the never-nudes.

For those of you who don’t know what never-nudes are, they’re in reference to a condition that a fictional character, Tobias Fünke, suffered from on the television show Arrested Development. Tobias had a phobia of being completely nude so he had to wear little jean shorts all the time–even when showering.  The never-nudes I wear are nearly missing a crotch, save for an inch of fabric.  You definitely can’t wear them in public or you’d burn somebody’s eyes out if you sat down without your legs crossed. Nevertheless, the Beast wears them around the house occasionally.  And now I’ve grown quite fond of them for lounging in.

Beast: Those are my never-nudes!  Take them off!

Foodie: No way man.  These are my new home-time shorts.

Beast: Why are you taking photos of me in my underwear and why are you posing in the never-nudes?

Foodie: Because it’s time to sex this blog up a bit! Sex sells. Look at Blake Lively and that Wiener! We need to release sexting messages or something.

Beast: I don’t even have a fucking cell phone. You’re selling out and you’re turning into a real creep.

Foodie: Will you hold still for crying out loud? How am I supposed to get the money shot?

Beast: You know, some of my friends have mentioned that they don’t think I’m being featured enough in the blog. I bring a lot of readers to the table.  If you put more of me in there and less of you going on and on and on, you might make some real money.

Foodie: Who would play you in the Broadway production of Foodie and the Beast?

Beast: (Pause) Val Kilmer.

Foodie: (Silence)

Beast: Or Gérard Depardieu.

Foodie: (Silence)

Beast: Maybe Miles Davis.

Foodie: But he’s black!

Beast: Ah, more importantly, he’s dead.

Foodie: You have time to join me outside for a mojito before you go?

Beast: (Pause) Yes.

(My mojito looks a bit golden because I add a tablespoon of maple sugar instead of simple syrup.  I have to say, I’m becoming awfully good at making them.)

Foodie: Did I tell you that I’m going to the Power Ball? (Mom, the Power Ball is an annual fundraiser put on by the contemporary Canadian art gallery, The Power Plant, in Toronto.) I am so excited!  But I have no idea what to wear.

Beast: I’ll tell you what to wear: take a big cardboard box, like the one our TV came in, cut out holes for your head, arms and legs and put a computer screen with a power point presentation on it in the chest part.  Done.

The Beast finally left for his party and I got to work on my single person diet dinner. Since I had quite a bit of trouble with the fillet sticking to the barbecue a few weeks ago when I attempted to make a fish sandwich, I grilled the fish on a piece of foil. And this time around, I hollowed out the bun and grilled it too.

Then I added a few tablespoons of homemade salsa and some fresh greens.

The final result was delicious! That, plus a 9 oz glass of white wine and a modest handful of gourmet potato chips, made for a perfect dieting dinner. Didn’t have to undo the top button of the never-nudes either.

Salami and cheese sandwich: Beast **

Fish sandwich: Foodie ***

7 responses to “His and Her Sandwiches

  1. what’s you mojito recipe?!

    • Well Toast, I take a glass and then squeeze all the juice I can get out of half of a lime. Then I grab a healthy handful of fresh mint and put that in the glass too. Then I take a muddler (you can use the end of a wooden spoon or some other blunt object, too) and mush the leaves into the juice–that really gets the mint going. Then I add a tablespoon of maple syrup, a generous shot of Havana dark rum and then I fill the glass with ice. Finally, I top that off with club soda. I don’t know how authentic this is. I do know that it tastes really good after work.

  2. I heart you Jess5.

  3. Carly, my heart just swelled a bit. I haven’t been called Jess 5 in a long time.

  4. LIES!!!!!

    oh my god, the magic is dead, Foodie (if that IS your real name). I know for a FACT that the timeline on this blog is skewed!!! Because I am the one who told our beloved Beast that he wasn’t being featured enough lately!!! THAT NIGHT!!! At the party HE HADN’T LEFT FOR YET!!!

    *sniffle*

    Anyways, this one was great! More G**ke crotch shots please.

    • Seejaypee,

      You are right: some liberties were taken with the timeline in this particular post but only so that I could better tell the story and save the dear readers from confusion and boredom. This is something I do on rare occasions–to further plots faster; to improve a joke or to get in nude shots. Please trust that I would never take advantage of this awesome power I hold (bending time) and that the events you read about on FATB are actual and never fabricated. They’re only manipulated, from time to time.

      Yours Truly,

      James Frey
      Foodie.

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