Friday, March 03, 2006

People Breed And Don't Ask Me For Permission

There’s this weird fried thing they serve in the company cafeteria on Fridays.  It goes by the name of Chicken Cordon Bleu but LET ME ASSURE YOU it’s like no other Chicken Cordon Bleu you have ever seen. 

For starters, it’s just a puffy fried rectangle the color off-season oranges.  Inside is a strange collection of processed chicken, a very pink slice of ham and lots of oozing strange velveeta-esque white cheese.  Typically, I like neither processed chicken, ham of any kind (pink or not) or velveeta.  Unless that velveeta comes in the form of rotel dip AND THEN GAME ON, BITCH.  So basically what I’m telling you is that every single ingredient involved in the cafeteria’s Chicken Cordon Bleu is, generally speaking, quite repugnant. 

But when combined and fried to golden crispy perfection it is the tastiest confection this side of the Mississippi river.  I allow myself only one of these a month because even though I’ve never seen the box these things inevitably come in and can’t truly state the amount of artery clogging fat or ass popping calories involved in one of these little suckers, I can confidently state that after years of Nutrition Facts readings that the count is probably pretty fucking high.  And I rationalize that I don’t eat corndogs or hotdogs or anything ending in ‘dog’ and therefore I’m entitled to a super-processed snack now and again. 

Today I decided I was definitely due a treat, seeing as how I’d snagged a promotion with a 30% increase in pay and because some ball-less twat rear-ended my car outside my apartment building, leaving me to discover their crime bright and early the next morning, something I will discuss later.  Possibly from jail.  Because I figure that since my bumper is getting fixed on Monday, that gives me two days to find out who did it and ram the ever loving SHIT out of their vehicle.  I have a sneaky suspicion about who the culprit is and I think they’re about to be missing a front bumper come Sunday morning.  But I digress.

I deserved a treat, dammit.

So I purchased my fried perfection of processed-ness and happily meandered over to an empty lunchroom booth by the window.  Behind me were three women steadily eating their lunches of tuna salad, tuna salad and oh, tuna salad.  OH THE SMELL. 

In these types of situations you’re hard pressed not to overhear at least snippets of other people’s conversations.  I mean, come on.  You’re roughly 8 inches from another person’s head and we’re just supposed to politely pretend that WE CAN’T HEAR THEM?     

“Did you know Arthur’s eye just swoll right up?”

“Really? It just swoll up?”

“Yep. The doctor said it might be infected and to come back Monday if it was still swoll shut and they’d do an x-ray.”

“Hells no.  If that was me Idda told him to do the x-ray right fucking then.  I ain’t walking round nowhere with my eye swoll shut up like that.  And you mean it was completely swoll shut?”

“Yep.  Just swoll right up.”

“Did you get my email the other day about that girl that had an infected eye?”

“The one that had the bug crawl in it.”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Naw girl, it wasn’t no bug.”

“Yes it was, I was the one that sent it.”

“It wasn’t no bug, gurl, it was a maggot.”

“A maggot?!”

“Yep. A maggot.  Just crawled right in while she was sleeping and got her eye all infected and it swoll right up.  They had to dig around in thar to get it out.  It was having them little baby maggots under her eyelid.”

“A maggot?!”

“And they almost didn’t get all of ‘em because you know them baby maggots are so tiny and all.”

 

By the last sentence I’d had enough.  I packed up my half-eaten Chicken Cordon Bleu, stood up, thanked the ladies for their delicious lunchtime stories and headed back up to my desk, my much anticipated Chicken Cordon Bleu resting at the bottom of the lunchroom trashcan. 

 

 

14 comments:

Unknown said...

Those sound like the ones they used to serve when I lived in the dorms in college. Except, it wasn't always just the ham that was pink. Fairly often, the chicken was just not quite done.

But, before the stomach cramps set in, they were pretty tasty.

and it would have served those "ladies" right if you had decided to yurp your half a snack onto their tuna.

I feel compelled that your post has generated the verification word of "hamzh" Just say it fast.

Anonymous said...

I just ate, I should not have read that. I should have NOT had that cheese, bad idea. AND I had rice. Ew, little white maggots digesting in mah tummeh.
*berf*
You'd think people would have common courtesy to discuss only appetizing conversations in the lunch room.

*slaps those bitches*

That's horrendously disgusting. Foulness x 100.

:D

Texas Roxy

oakland heidi said...

I thought I was hungry, but now I am feeling a little less than.

gross.

Anything to do with maggots totally freaks me out.

Carl from L.A. said...

IMO, most "health food" are worse. At least here the chicken, the ham, and the cheese aren't fake.

Anonymous said...

Those bitches are RETARDS! Maggots don't have babies, they hatch into flies. Dumbasses!

Drunken Chud said...

thank you anonymous. i was about to say, since when can maggots have babies? they are babies. babies can't have babies.

heh, robin, i know of the chicken cordon bleu of which you speak. i can no longer eat them after a run in with a poorly cooked one. let's just say it involved me not getting of the couch in time, bare feet, a tile floor, a concrete wall and possibly the grossest slip and fall and continue to slip ever caught on tape (had it actually been caught on tape that is).

sillypants said...

OK, I am gagging the way I do when I watch Fear Factor.

rob said...

The worm didn't crawl into her eye. It most likely got into her blood stream from something she ate.

Something like chicken cordon bleu.

Who wants breakfast?

Chairborne Stranger said...

LMAO- A Hilarious post that I enjoyed, can't stop laughing. omg.

Faltenin said...

Followed you from Truebie's page, and these posts really crack me up.

Maggots? Yeewwww.

Adam said...

Red sky at dawn, sailor be warned.

~A~ said...

I just had to reply to say I just had one of the best giggles reading your story. But I can't figure out what's funnier, the tasty fried gut-rot or eye maggots. Yummy.

Rolligun said...

congratulations on the promotion, I'm glad all that worked out for you.

One other thing...

you dind't sell me on that unidentified "food" product you spoke of. I thought that was more of a stomach killer than the pressing lunch conversation.

Barry S. said...

Conversations can go downhill in a hurry around the lunchtable. We unintentionally make our admin queasy on a weekly basis.

Come to think of it, perhaps I shouldn't breed either.