This evening, on our way home for the night, Corb and I were walking up to the entrance of our complex. Right before I reached the door, I stepped in duck poop.
"You'd better take your sneakers off and leave them in the hall," Corb instructed.
So I did. But now I'm wondering: what if my next door neighbor decides to place sticks of butter in them during the night? Corb assures me that won't happen, because only totally deranged people would dream up such a scenario.
I think he was talking about me, for some reason.
On a totally unrelated note, today is Josie's birthday. Corb and I are taking her out to a really nice Italian restaurant tonight, and then have arranged for her to spend the night at Corb's hotel.
Don't worry: we've made accomodations for a table near the front door so she won't have far to travel with her walker. And, hopefully she'll wear her Depends through the night, because it really would be terrible if she were to wet herself in the night. But at her advanced age, I really wouldn't be surprised.
Seriously, I want all of you who know the one and only, beautiful "dark lady" to wish her a big old happy birthday tomorrow! She deserves it, and then some.
Finally, an etiquette issue. Corb's going to kill me for even bringing it up.
The other night we were eating supper, and had ordered Chinese takeout. The restaurant that we always choose has some of the best Chinese food that I've ever tasted, usually, but that night, it just wasn't cutting it for me. The chicken didn't taste exactly right, so I skipped over it in favor of the rice and crab rangoon. I mentioned this to Corb, and he said he thought his tasted delicious.
Anyway, we finished our food and then watched a few episodes of 24, and by the end of that, Corb was totally wiped and just wanted to go to sleep. I didn't want to leave the food lying around and picked up the containers to throw them away.
The next day, Corb called me on my cell phone as I was driving home. "I'm mad at you," he said.
Oh, Lord, what now? "Why?"
"You threw the Chinese food away, and I'm hungry! How could you be so hurtful?"
I laughed. "Well, you didn't tell me to save yours, and mine tasted bad."
"But you had a lot of food left! I could have eaten that today..."
Now wait. So, after I'm done with my meal, which I didn't think tasted so hot in the first place, I'm supposed to think about saving it for Corb? I mean, at one point I had to get up and spit one of the pieces out into the sink, because it tasted so horrible. So I'm supposed to think, "Gee, this food tasted like shit. What should I do with it? Oh, I know! I'll leave it for Corb to eat tomorrow. He'll love it!"
Isn't that just a variation on, "Oh, this tastes awful. Try it!"
I tried to argue the case in front of Josie that night, but she wouldn't hear a word of it. She said that it wouldn't be a good idea to take sides, but if she were going to, she agreed with Corb that I shouldn't go around wasting food.
Of course, this is the same woman who committed one of the foulest, most hideous food crimes I've ever had to endure.
You see, years ago, during one of our first Christmases together, my parents, as they do every year, bought me a Hickory Farms smoked sausage. Every year I would look forward to it, and keep in the fridge so that I could enjoy it, bit by bit.
One night, after a long evening of paying bills, I went to the fridge, weakened and hungry, with nothing on my mind but eating a piece of my Christmas sausage (keep in mind, this is before I could eat other kinds of sausage). And so, I went to the fridge...and...
It was gone.
"It had been there for three months," Josie confessed to me, as I ran into the bedroom, distraught. "I threw it out. It couldn't have been good any more."
Those things last forever! They could survive a nuclear holocaust, for God's sake! They could outlive cockroaches! And here I am, asking her to back me on a food issue, year's later, and even after her blatant act of evil--depriving a poor bill-paying man of his summer sausage, a deed which scarred me for years--she has the nerve to side with Corb on the curious case of curious tasting General Gao's chicken!
I tell you, I'm going to remember this. Some day, somewhere, there's going to be a food issue...and both Corb and Josie beter watch it...because I might not be there to cover their backs.
Note: Please don't take this story very seriously, guys. I do like to exaggerate!