nedhepburn:
whats stranger? going to south america to follow my heart or staying in LA to follow a dream?
i immediately thought HEART, but then i applied it to my current situation and then i realized that my heart lies in my dreams which lie in my heart. confusing shit, dude. flip a coin and godspeed.
i come to work (at my bar) every sunday and monday morning; and there is a guy in the kitchen that will cook me whateeeeever i want. anything. (for instance, cheddar/bacon/jalapeno waffles with sour cream and pico on top? fuuuuck yeah.) i unlock the bar and go straight to the kitchen to put on a pot of strong coffee, and he’s back there prepping things. chopping stuff. we’ve shared many hungover mornings together. “YOU CAN’T BABY A HANGOVER” is our mantra. “not babying a hangover” usually consists of extremely black coffee and self-loathing.. and lots of snacking on bacon and potato chips.
sometimes i turn on the food network and tell him to get creative with my lunch. one monday afternoon he made spicy mac and cheese with pepper jack and mozzarella; accompanied with fried meatballs that had mozzarella stuffed in the center. it might not sound too fancy, but holy shit…. i’ve since requested it on multiple occasions.
he can’t understand why i don’t like mushrooms. believe me, i TRY to like mushrooms; any time i have the opportunity to eat mushrooms prepared differently than i’ve had them before, i eat them. it’s always something; either the texture, or too much mushroom flavor… or… mostly just both of those things. i understand the stuffed/fried mushrooms are a crowd favorite, but i just can’t dig on em. i’ll eat the hell out of the farmers’ market pickles, though.
today he’s making me breakfast tacos with sauteed spinach, tomatoes, eggs, bacon, potatoes, and cheese. while i wait, i’m blasting the new st. vincent record through the bar; he’s annoyed that it’s not metal, i’m sure. he always wants me to play something angry. i’ll turn on the sword and he’s usually happy.
“let’s get married,” i said to him after he made some kind of chicken wrapped with garlic something or other with spicy mashed potatoes. “can i sleep with other people?” was his reply. i think i retorted with “get back in the kitchen, where you belong.”
