Expiration Dates

Well, the weekend is winding down despite the extra hour. I’m sitting in my computer room, listening to Groove Salad and wondering what the hell I accomplished this weekend.

Friday night I went down to Augusta to catch DJ Triskyl at Spectral Erosa. It was the Halloween bash, and it pretty much reinforced my belief that Halloween for adults is an excuse for many women to dress as slutty as possible without social repercussions. I’m not complaining, mind you, I’m as much a red-blooded man as the next guy. (Considering I was in a gay bar, I’m not sure that statement is as effective.)

Anyway, there was an abundance of female flesh exposed to view. The music selection was pretty good, but the amplifier was blown out the night before. It’s hard to get into angry music when there’s no bass to speak of. Despite that, I had a good time, and I’m looking forward to seeing Spectral Erosa pick up in December at its new location. (The Spot in North Augusta) We ended up getting back into Columbia (after the obligatory Waffle House visit) around 3ish, and I went straight to bed.

Saturday is a blur of nothing happening. Honest to God, I have no idea what I did yesterday. I woke up around noon and wasted the entire day, basically. Somewhere in there I watched Batman Begins and checked the mail. It’s an exciting life I lead, trust me. Saturday night, however, I placed a phone call out to Jabbers around 11:45pm.

She and I talked for five hours. I shit you not. I had to plug my phone into the charger twice during our conversation to recharge the battery. I can’t say that I’ve ever talked to anyone face-to-face for that long, much less on the phone. So Jabbers now holds first and second place for the longest phone conversations I’ve ever had. If you asked me what we talked about, I can’t really recap it all, but it ranged from Germany to Ireland to Enchilarittos (She makes these things and calls them enchiladas, but they sound like burritos to me.) The Enchilarittos part came after about an hour and half, and made me realize how hungry I was.

As I talked, then, I wandered through my kitchen to investigate the possibility of food. I’m the sort of person who does not buy a lot of groceries in advance, because I have to be in the mood for something to eat it, and food gets wasted if I buy too much at a time. Last night was a prime example of this. In my cupboard, my usual place to stash junk food, I only had two packs of Cheese on Wheat crackers. Not the most filling junk food, so I went to the fridge.

Inside the big white box which keeps food cold, I discovered three bottles of Dundee’s Honey Brown (beer), a bottle of Absolut vodka that was half-empty (or half-full, depending on your disposition), and a half-carton of eggs that has been in there for six months. There was also a pack of provolone cheese and three slices of whole-grain bread, two of which were the nasty butt-ends. Not wanting a grilled cheese provolone sandwich, I went to the pantry.

The walk-in pantry was the subject of much discussion when I bought this house back in 2000. My mother said how much she loved it. My female friends envied it. I looked at it as a handy place to store my tennis racket, roller blades, and pool cue. Aside from the sports equipment, I put foods in here that I really have no intention of eating, such as canned soup that mother buys for me on occassion. (Don’t get me started on soup. Soup is not food. Soup is a chunky drink.)

So I’m looking at the edible contents of my pantry last night, while talking to Jabbers, and reading off expiration dates. A huge bottle of Prego spaghetti sauce that has a date of 2001 on it, two cans of corn that expired in 2002, canned chicken (like the tuna-looking cans) that expired in 2004. Jesus, did I really let canned goods expire? This is the same stock of food they say to throw into a bomb shelter, right? The three sources of food in my house were devoid of a meal, and I had to choose between being extremely tired, or being extremely hungry. Do I sleep, or do I go to Waffle House? Fatigue won out, and I bade Jabbers good night to crash.

I awoke around noon today, and decided it was time for a trip to the grocery store. So Bi-Lo found me filling my cart with all manners of food, which I then brought home to stash away in their appropriate locations. Upon restocking, I went about the business of removing expired stock. I filled an entire kitchen bag with food that had gone bad. On the bright side, I’ve got two years before the new cans of chicken go bad, and two weeks to drink my half-gallon of milk.

Now I’m faced with the responsibility of deciding on where and when to meet Jabbers. (This was another point brought up in our five-hour conversation.) She maintains that she’ll be shy and quiet when we first meet, but I’m not sure I believe her. I’ll have to think on this a bit.

For now, though, I’m going into the kitchen and making me some chicken salad before that chicken goes bad.

Leave a Comment