"What kind of hot dog maker are you?"
"Bring it on, pita girl!"
I think that's my favorite quote this week. It's from MyUnwife's favorite new show, Chuck. I like it too, obviously or I wouldn't watch it. I mean, I'd still do things for MyUnwife, but adding bad programming to my DVR queue? Some things are just too distasteful. That probably explains why she still won't watch Flash Gordon for me.
"It just leaves a fuzzy flavor in my mouth., kind of like a hairball. You know that feeling. You're a guy."
Well no I…
I'm not sure what being a guy has to do with it. We don't lick ourselves like cats (yeah, go ahead you pervs. Insert your bad jokes here. I'm keeping it clean, but I'll wait. Ready, ok, let's continue). Maybe It's just an all bad things are guy related. At least that's what I'm told. I do know this though: one person's Friday night action is another person's bad taste. That's what separates us or draws us closer. I still watch Chuck, but I do it for me. Let's face it, with quotes like "Bring it on pita girl!" followed by a series of commercials, and then followed by a cool wiener vs. pita girl-girl battle royalle, what's not to love?
I know I'm a pig, but then again I know MyUnwife doesn't watch it solely for the witty banter and the cool spy plot. She wants her beefcake and the cut she likes is called "Chuck." Hey, she chose me once, I sure as hell ain't gonna complain about her choice in men.
When we were out for our "printing" dinner we talked about Chuck. I told her I thought the little girlfriend was cute. She raised the "oh really?" brow but continued her burger as if not to judge. "I also think the sister is pretty hot." Now she's nodding, "Well that I could see." she says into her napkin. It's funny watching your once significant other talk about other significant ones, even if it's just primetime fantasies. You're constantly comparing them to the things you thought you knew. Heaven forbid we actually see each other on a date. I don't know if I could ever see her out with another guy.
"She's laughing at his jokes! Those aren't funny! I bet he thinks he knows music too!" bastard. And yet I know it will happen. If she's not seeing somebody right now, then she will, and I will accidentally run into them. With any luck, I'll be in a car. Oh, sorry...
Spooning more salsa on my chicken tacos of denial, I avoid that thought. The tacos are great. Grilled chicken, onions red bell peppers. She could enjoy her chuck beef, but my spicy tacos were awesome. They're spicy enough to take my mind off the dating topic, and yet not too spicy as to burn all flavor from my tongue.
I've had quite a few food discussions lately. I've chatted red peppers (both bottled and flakes) with friends, I've talked spicy marinades with MyUnwife and I've even accepted advice about the healing powers of chicken soup. Food plays a bigger role in my life than I ever realized. I mean I know I always eaten it, my Uncle Babyeater days prove that (well that and the fact that I'm not, well…dead), but I'm enjoying it as well.
Now I'm finding aspects of food I'd forgotten about. The spices, the textures, the savor, are all becoming important experiences to me. It's like shaking a cold and going out for a smoked salmon. The flavors I would have missed due to clogged sinuses and unappetizing piles of Kleenex now jumps to life. Please, I'm not comparing MyUnwife to hacking phlegm. Sometimes my metaphors get it the way. I'm referring to that end time. The initial period alone, as the plague days.
Right now I'm just starting to experience the flavors. I'm tasting for the first time in a long time. It's just me for now, but I could see tasting things with somebody else someday. I like that thought. I just need to find somebody who likes to cook.
"Bring it on, pita girl!"
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