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THE MAN EATER:
A real wiener
A real wiener
There still is so much to do. I have to chip out some debris from the microwave. The door doesn't close all the way. I have to use my drill's grinder bit to hack away at the food barnacles that crowd my Emerson. I pause in awe when I notice that one mound is green with apparent life. Determined, I grit my teeth and grind away. I hope it wasn't an endangered species. Good thing I put the hot dogs in the beer marinade already, because this will take awhile.
When I open the fridge to snag a Busch, I notice there is only an inch of ketchup in the bottle. But I don't panic. I have an old bottle of bloody Mary mix in the back of the fridge. I think it's still good, because stuff usually freezes back there. I clear a space on the counter for it to sit and defrost, sending a jelly glass crashing to the floor.
Things are going well, but I'm just a little on edge because the guests will arrive soon. I chug the Busch.Howard, one of my friends, promised to bring the onion rings, but he is known for just forgetting about stuff. Nick and Leah are supposed to bring more beer for dessert.
Despite my efforts, I can't get the microwave door to close. The hot dogs have plumped up a bit, and they're begging to be grilled in the skillet. . To keep them from sticking, I spray the pan with a little WD–40. I fire it up high, knowing that a good chef should sear the wieners first to seal in the subtle flavors. And to kill off any bad stuff they have picked up in my fridge. Now I turn down the heat and let the wieners simmer. I pop another beer.
I know that presentation is half of the gourmet experience. They always scatter something green on top of the dish to make it look better. Other than that mold in the microwave, I don't have anything green. But there's some green in the lawn just outside, so I snatch a handful of turf. I shred the blades so folks won't know it's grass.
The wieners, beans and "cilantro" look quite appetizing, and the earthy scent makes me salivate. But it's getting late. Time to set up the TV trays. I'll have to move the garbage can off the sidewalk.
©Gary Gouy
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Gary Houy is a freelance writer/editor with more than 20 years of experience in the newspaper business. He has a journalism degree from Southern Illinois University and a master's in public administration from Arizona State University. He has lived in Colorado for the past 20 years.
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©Margie Culbertson
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