Culinary Combat

Photo Credit: c1.staticflickr.com

I stood there, staring at the crunchy, cheesy concoctions I marvelously put together. Little pops and crackles rose up from the sizzling silver surface beneath me. On my left were some of the products of my culinary precision, waiting under the bright lamp to be eaten by the many students I'd see that day. I was ready.
 

I looked through the smoky, scratched screen in front of me as the cafeteria sat empty. It was the calm before the storm. It was in those brief moments of tension that I knew they were coming. I realized that my collection of culinary art would soon be devoured, and that it wasn't enough to dent the oncoming invasion of ravenous, rampaging humans. 

The lives of my crunchy compadres flashed before my eyes as I saw their gooey interior splatter across across the paper layered pan. It's my job to make them meal ready. And they were, fearlessly sitting under the heat lamp waiting for the tongs to embrace them.

Suddenly, I realized that I had become lost in thought, and the people in front of me had lost their patience. My attention was suddenly drawn to the empty pans. Nothing was left but cheesy, crunchy remnants of my previous masterpieces. A slight nervousness tingled through my skin as I looked ahead. Everyone was blankly staring at me. Some of their eyes drooped down to the quesadillas on the grill, and then slowly back up to meet me.

They were hungry. Nothing would get between them and their feast, not even time itself. Suddenly I started pacing back and forth, unwrapping tortillas from their self contained barriers of cryostasis. They stuck together, refusing to leave their brethren. Some of them left segments of their fractured shells behind, which meant that I had to condemn them to the dark pit of refuse.

Time passed as I continued to make sure the food was cooking. My hands wrapped around the nice, wooden handles of my ninja flippers and within seconds all of the quesadillas were grilled side up. I was half way there. Sweat dripped from my brow as the pressure intensified. My mind started calculating...chicken...pepperoni...pepperoni...chicken...cheese...pepperoni...I thought to myself as my hands pointed at them all.

The crowd shot me a blank stare as I mumbled to myself like a madman. I tried to make casual conversation with some of my guests, but all they could hear was the screaming howl of hunger from within their desperate souls. Finally, the time came.

It was the maiden voyage for the little self contained vessels I created. A sigh escaped my chest as I wiped my brow and brought them to the bilateral incision board. With one fell swoop I halved all of my creations, and tossed them into the breach. I knew none of them would last long, and I mentally said good bye to all of my work.

Suddenly, I noticed something odd. One of the students, who ordered pepperoni quesadillas, walked off with cheese as well, leaving two ladies stranded in front of my grill, staring at me with sad, pitiful eyes. "Where is the cheese?" They asked sweetly, looking at the empty tins. Then, without any break in concentration, I started over, repeating this endless cycle of satisfying their voracious appetites.

Through the heated battle of culinary combat I successfully satisfied all customers with their own custom crafted quesadilla. After closing time, I cleaned away the remains of a well fought war. I had managed to win this battle, but I knew they would be back. College students were never permanently satisfied. One week from now, they would return, hungry for another greasy feast. Until then, I had to rest, refocus, and remember that each battle got me closer to achieving the ultimate goal in this season of my life. One day, I would be a master chef.

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The Scanner

Photo Credit: us.123rf.com

 

I sat in the small, wooden chair thinking about the shift I was taking upon myself. My calloused hands grasped the black, ergonomically comfortable scanner as I looked at the crowd approaching me. Their eyes showed signs of hunger, of thirst, and of minor depravity. They were hungry, and the only way to cure their insatiable appetite was through the power in my hands.

My eyes glanced down as the red light vibrated over their zebra coated bar codes. A little chuckle escaped me as I realized the position of responsibility I was given. On this throne I could determine who could eat and who would be turned away, stomachs grumbling by my royal rejection.

At first it was a simple job, being in charge of the mighty portal of porridge, but I knew that my time would end. Soon, the crowds died down. They relocated to chairs around the cafeteria with the food I had so graciously allowed them to receive. Then, boredom set in.

It's tendrils crawled through my nerves as I sat there, staring at people enjoying their food, while I sat motionless behind the cash register. Suddenly, a few ideas entered my activity depraved mind. My laser was now an instrument of entertainment instead of a mighty scepter of service!

I realized that with a few vocal sound effects, I could make it into a club. I beatboxed happily while I shone the laser around the floor, acting like a culinary DJ with no audience. Then, by a stroke of genius, I scanned a pencil and realized it was safe to go through security, followed by a retinal scan of myself (which was probably not the greatest idea). But the most interesting discovery I made about my newly held position, and something that biologists worldwide might be astonished by, is that my hand apparently has a secret, natural barcode.

When I reached the end of my wits, I decided that scanning myself to find out how much I was worth was a clever use of my imagination. With a steady hand, and a focused eye, I scanned my palm, and suddenly the receipt machine sprang to life! I looked down at the receipt, and it said, "transaction failed". My self esteem fell a couple of notches as I watched the receipt print out this very disconcerting message. I either had no worth, or could not be sold. In order to salvage my shattered self esteem I chose the latter option, because selling myself would not be the best idea I ever had.

Time went by, and I realized that my position of power was suddenly beginning to fade. 1:30 rolled around, and I sighed. It was only an hour of power, but it felt good to experience such a gratifying sense of importance. Immediately my boss came in, turned off the cash register and told me to return to my normal life, away from my temporary position of power. I walked back to my lonely, quiet room on campus and realized that in those fleeting moments I had discovered something new about myself. 

 

I am easily entertained when given a barcode scanner and too much time on my hands.

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Attack on Toilet

Photo Credit: www.fineartamerica.com

Sometimes, the human body has no understanding of convenience. It's an autonomous, ticking machine that calculates each second of our lives while we observe in awe. Millions of signals are sent throughout the complex network of electrical nodes in our system to help us perceive the world we live in. Even though our intricate brains have come together to determine acceptable patterns of behavior, the body is still primal with urges and reflexes beyond our limited control. Although our mind discerns the appropriate time to fulfill certain duties, we still are at the unbending will of our urges.

Sometimes those urges put us in predicaments that are unavoidable, which brings me to the greatest saving grace mankind has ever developed. It's curved exterior and clear liquid pool are easy on the eyes, while the soft rushing water of a well deserved flush is music to the ears. When you see the signs, and your body is loosing control, it's the safe haven for humanity.

I was in need of one of these portals when the glorious sign hung firmly above a nearby storefront. At last, I said to myself as I walked in and shut the door. After doing what needed to be done, I was ready to take on the world once more. This throne would be missing it's temporary ruler, but I had to go back to the world beyond the white washed cells of this peaceful asylum.

With a firm push of my outstretched palm, I could hear the rushing waters flushing away beneath me. It was a truly satisfying experience. The swish of liquid mixed with the deep rumble of the bowl being refilled was a symphony to my soul. This was my friend, I thought to myself as I started to rise from my seat of sanitation.

A gentle tug at my pants brought them to their assigned seat when suddenly...I knew something wasn't right. They were dry when I walked in. My eyes traced down my shocked body to the jeans at my waist. I gently lowered them a bit to see the backside. This wasn't good. My jeans were blue before...but not that dark. Or wet.

I dropped them to the ground and looked around to find out what could have caused this catastrophe...when suddenly I knew.  While I was focusing on the intense pleasure of the flushing, I was attacked. The wet, scarred fabric of my once clean blue jeans was rinsed by the disgraceful shower of a cracked commode. To put it simply, the toilet was having trouble. Since I don't commit to fifteen point inspections before doing my duty, I didn't see the tiny cracks in the porcelain.

Ah great, I thought to myself as I tried to dry off the offending stain with toilet paper. No use. My eyes glared at my once faithful friend. How could you? I asked the silent bowl as I squished my way out the door. My hands loosely tied the belt to my waist, so that my jeans did not cause me any further embarrassment. It's one thing to feel the soggy slap of wet jeans against the rear, but it's quite another for the innocent civilians of a public place to see it. I will not explain further.

As I slowly sloshed my way across the bright bathroom, I realized that I almost forgot to wash my hands. I faced the mirror and turned to look at the marked area. It was painfully noticeable. What's my girlfriend going to say? I thought to myself as I sighed. Well, it's too late to worry about it now. After rinsing my hands for a few seconds, I reached over to the soap dispenser.

I didn't realize until that moment that the toilet was not the only aggressor in this lavatory. With a soft press of the handle, a puff of white goo erupted from the bowels of the sink onto my left leg. A gooey, dripping mass slid down my pants as I attempted to wash it away. I should have realized that soap reacts to water. After trying to scrub the soap off my jeans, I realized that I had lathered the denim. Not only were my jeans wet, but now they were bubbly. Little suds slid down my leg, while some inflated in little orbs of air on my pants. Great, I thought to myself as I dried it off with a towel.

With one last look in the mirror, a giant exhale escaped my lungs. Now it looked even worse. The seat of my pants were soaked from the traumatic toilet experience, and the front was assaulted by a soap machine gone haywire. In the back of my mind I could imagine the sink and the commode laughing as I left their domain in shame. I had to go out to face the world, but not in the way I intended.

I wasn't leaving with pride at the job well accomplished, of my duties fulfilled with my head held high. No, I left in shame and realized something that I never thought of before this moment. When I finally met my girlfriend, she met me with beautiful, concerned brown eyes.

"Baby, are you okay?", she asked softly.

I paused for a moment, trying to think of a way to respond to that question. Inside I felt like I was being bullied by a bathroom, but I knew I was stronger than that. In a few brief seconds, I had my answer.

"Baby...I'm a soggy bottom boy." I smiled and walked with her out into the world together. I may have squished and squeaked my way through the rest of the day, but I was happy. Nothing in life can keep me down forever. Not even a treacherous toilet experience.

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Spin Me Round

Photo Credit: www.iosnoops.com

Boredom is a terrible mistress. It teases you with the possibility of an idea, then leaves you stranded in the emptiness of your mind. One second, you think you have something brilliant, but then you slump down in despair as you realize the dull throb of an unoccupied mind shooed it away. I was in one of these times as I sat there staring at my phone screen. My body was seated comfortably in a chair, but my mind was bored and tired of wandering around the empty void of boredom I currently inhabited. What was taking the lady so long?

She said she needed to step in the back and make a call, but I didn't realize that it would take so long. All I wanted to know was a simple quote on the item I was attempting to buy. A sigh escaped my chest as I sat there. Some people wandered in and decided to use my shoulder as an arm rest. Their eyes glanced from one item to the next as they maneuvered around my seated form with the grace of an intoxicated elephant. Great, I thought to myself as I watched someone put their face right over my shoulder to look.

If they were children, I wouldn't have had a problem. Kids have a way of not understanding personal space and I would just politely ignore them. But these were adults. I glanced down at my phone screen as their wrinkled hands pointed and gestured in front of my annoyed face. I asked if I could move so they would have a better view, but they said I was fine and continued to make me feel like a part of the furniture I was sitting on.

The pleasant glow of my phone screen kept me company as I ignored the shuffling seniors. Eventually they will go look at something else. There weren't that many items on the shelf. Soon, I popped open the App Store on my phone to look for a distraction from my desperate boredom. There were plenty of little games that could've occupied my time, but none of them caught my eye.

Through my years of gaming experience I had matched so many colored jewels, soda, candy, pirate treasure, diamonds, and every other conceivable object under the sun that I needed something original. It had to be something simple enough to pick up and play, but engaging enough to keep me occupied. As I scrolled down the list, one particular game took my breath away.

My eyes fixated on the little icon and I gasped quietly to myself. No way. This can't be real. I thought as I clicked on it for more information. As my brain hungrily digested the text I was reading, I realized that this was not a dream. Within seconds I clicked the download button, and watched eagerly as the loading bar spun around the orb. Almost...almost there. Finally, within a few seconds, the icon popped up on my phone's screen.

Boredom no longer had a place inside my occupied mind as I clicked on the icon and watched the object load in front of me. It was magnificent, a monument to human ingenuity. The little three pronged dream weaver spun in front of me as I swiped my finger. The beauty of the moment is hard to describe in text. No word in the human dictionary could properly capture the elegance of what I was witnessing in that brief moment.

Suddenly, it stopped. Gold coins filled an invisible piggy bank and I was not yet satisfied. With a quick swipe, the magic began to happen again. Little blue and green swirls melted together into a kaleidoscope of colored wonder as my heart melted at the sight. It...was...beautiful. A little numbered counter steadily climbed higher at the top of screen, filling up a bar indicating my skillful achievement. But, the number didn't matter to me. For once I was not captivated by the increase of meaningless numbers on my screen. Gone were the days when I longed for a higher level than others, or to watch the steadily rising numbers of achievement to satisfy my thirst for purpose. Now, the simple act of spinning this wonderful device left me speechless.

A little, salty crocodile tear dripped down my cheek as I felt the urge to hug my phone tightly to let it know it was loved. Why had I not thought of letting this darling little device into my life before? I don't know, but ever since I discovered it, my life has changed. I no longer feel the bitter sting of boredom in the darkest hours of meaninglessness. Now I have a playful companion to keep me company whenever I am alone and have no other tasks to attend to.

But, I wouldn't be a good friend to all of you readers if I didn't let you in on the secret. Throughout this article you have probably asked yourself, what on Earth is this guy going on about? Well, I am here to say that this particular little game may change your life. It changed mine.

Thank you Fidget Spinner, you have shown me that there is still beauty in this world. With your swirling, colorful gadgets, you have made a believer out of me. At first I believed you were a fad, a short term obsession that only the middle school kids would get into, but I was wrong. You are beautiful. You are the cure to boredom, and a dear friend. So may I offer support to you by telling the great readers of my blog to download you and to experience the beauty of spinning you round and round til the end of time.

Oh, excuse me, I got a little distracted. I think I may have a problem that I don't want to fix. With all due regret and acceptance I must admit that I have become temporarily enamored by the digital Fidget Spinner on my phone. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must take the app for another spin.

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