I've contributed to perhaps the best humor compilation I've ever read. Available now on Amazon!

My second chapbook, "The Second Book of Pearl: The Cats" is now available as either a paper chapbook or as a downloadable item. See below for the Pay Pal link or click on its cover just to the right of the newest blog post to download to your Kindle, iPad, or Nook. Just $3.99 for inspired tales of gin, gambling addiction and inter-feline betrayal.

My first chapbook, I Was Raised to be A Lert is in its third printing and is available both via the PayPal link below and on smashwords! Order one? Download one? It's all for you, baby!

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

You Sure You Can’t Eat One More?

I have wandered into the kitchen in search of food.

Some may insist, by the way, that the more apt verb would be “staggered”. These people have all been drinking and their words should be taken with a grain of salt until they sober up.

In our neck of the woods, wandering into the kitchen is perfectly normal behavior, particularly when the woods you are in are just outside Kathy’s house.

Kathy’s attitude is “mi casa es su casa”, which is Spanish, I believe, for “whatever you can find”.

As you can imagine, we all firmly support Kathy in this attitude.

I have wandered in from the deck, where brisk political conversations are causing peals of laughter, in search of a paper plate and interesting foods to place upon it. In true Northeast Minneapolis form, even as late in the evening as it is, there is still food left.

And also true to form, there is one piece left of everything.

That big luscious cake with those obscenely juicy berries clustered on top? A lone piece remains.

The Asian Chicken Lettuce Wraps? One left.

The taco dip (my one-trick pony party offering)? Enough, in a corner, for a good chip’s worth.

There is also one sloppy joe, one pickle.

In other words, there is enough left for me. I open another beer as I contemplate food that starts out as elaborately planned platters and ends as abstract art.

“What do you suppose this is all about?”

Diana hiccups gently. “It’s a phemonana —a phenolama – it’s an observable event.” Diana has a way with words. “Do you think it happens in other parts of the world?”

“What,” I say. “Like there is one piece of leftover fried chicken somewhere at a party in Kentucky? One fried grasshopper on a plate at a get-together somewhere in, um, one of the grasshopper-eating states?”

“Look around.” Hic! “Please note there’s never only one beer left.”

We both observe a moment of silence as we look around the kitchen. There is truth in her words, and by grinning, tacit agreement we clink our beer bottles and drink to our powers of observation.

And the question remains. What is it about that last piece? Did someone run their tongue along that last piece of cake in some sort of territorial claim that I wasn’t made privy to? If I eat that last chip full of taco dip, will someone come in from the porch yelling, “Hey! Who ate the last of the dip? I was saving that!” In a bowl that once held at least 100 of those Asian Chicken Lettuce Wraps, what was offensive about that last one?

32 comments:

Joshua said...

This feels like my nights since the crash. Staggering into the kitchen at 1 or 2am, foraging for food like I'm saving up for winter already.

haphazardlife said...

It's because people don't want to look like gluttons by eating the last one. You might have stuffed 10 wraps down your gaping maw, but if there's one left you're not a pig.

- Jazz

Cake Betch said...

This probably has to do with being raised to not take the last bite of food because someone else may want it. I know my parents did that with me and so did my boyfriend.

I will gladly forget that rule for beer though. Screw 'em.

Leenie said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
TALON said...

lol! Sounds like a fun time! And I think it goes back to childhood reprimands - that whole 'one thing left' -- "Don't be a glutton - leave something for someone else!" ;)

Oilfield Trash said...

Now I am craving a chicken lettuce wrap.

Glen said...

The last dip is mine - everyone knows that

Miss Scarlet said...

...and it was me who ate all the crisps within 10 minutes of them being placed on the table.
Sx

jabblog said...

Don't we all do that - at least some of the time, while someone's looking?

Meg said...

I never want to be the one to "polish off" anything. But I often end up being that person.

George said...

Most people don't want to be the one to take the last (fill in the blank). I personally don't care, if I want it I'll take it.

Sarah Has Moxie said...

Genius post, Pearl! I hope the next one is about all the individual tupperwares all of those last bites go into only to be dragged from the fridge the next day when we have "Must Go" for dinner. :)
hugs!

jenny_o said...

Hah! So true! I agree it happens because we are raised to not take the last of anything - but then it usually gets thrown out - what a waste! So, everybody needs to pledge that from now on they will ALWAYS take the last of anything standing. Even if it leads to having to buy new pants.

ThreeOldKeys said...

my dad would say "i'll eat it to save its life."

The Vegetable Assassin said...

One more time. You know what I think? I think those last pieces are special secret ops foods, left their deliberately to spy. Culinary Espionage is big right now. It reports everything back to the big Cheese. LITERALLY!

The Vegetable Assassin said...

Oh. NOW I can post a comment. Don't I feel like an asshole.

lisleman said...

Hey was it a little like this except the people were older
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26wgyVy8FVg
I don't want to drink in the woods anymore.

Douglas said...

Whatever happened to "Go ahead, I'll make more"?

Sioux said...

If you didn't eat it, it would go to waste, and think of the starving Armenians (that was the group mentioned when I was a kid)...

Daisy said...

I agree with those who say it's a leftover from the days when we were told to leave something for the next person. Nowadays, if I want it I take it. If someone else wanted it, they should have acted sooner.

Reminded me a bit of my brother who would announce to guests: "There's the fridge, if you starve, it's your own fault".

Gigi said...

This astounds me. But only because of the man I am married to. Whenever we host a party the man cooks so much food that there is never "just enough for one" left over; we usually have enough left over that we could host another party.

And yeah; he hasn't figured out to cook for just the three of us either. I'm seriously beginning to think he could start a business by just selling his leftovers.

Antares Cryptos said...

"has a way with words"? LOL. I wonder if someone who is inebriated will get that, when I point it out to them. And I shall.

WrathofDawn said...

It's because if you eat the last of something you will be an old maid forever and ever.

100% FACT!*



*with rather flexible values for 100%

Steadfast Ahoy! said...

If that was me, I'd toss everything except the cake, open another bottle of red wine and put my feet up. Sounds like a successful party.
Rosemary

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

I wander into my kitchen all the time looking for something to eat--but I never see any spread like THAT waiting for me...

HermanTurnip said...

Somewhere a single mitten is contemplating its own existence while staring at a plate of bean dip with only *one* scoop taken out of it.

Ya see, the universe has a way of equalizing everything, party platters included ;-)

Julianna said...

Hell, one left over means that I might get the chance of a decent lunch the next day.

But I'm sorry. The cake? Never, EVER would have made it back to the fridge.

Not if I had access to a fork.

Pat said...

There's a school of thought that believes it is 'manners' to leave something on the plate.

hoodyhoo said...

Two theories -- 1) it's impolite to eat the last of anything in case someone else comes along who didn't eat yet (it's a Southern thing). 2) and this is my personal favorite -- all the fat/calories in any given dish try to save themselves from being eaten by fleeing into the last piece -- so if you just don't eat that piece, you're fine.

Pearl said...

Why is Blogger trying to kill me? Two days of messed up commenting! Ack.

Dawn @Lighten Up! said...

I would totally eat the last of the dip and polish off your final beer. Like I always say when we arrive at parties:
The Webersteins are finally here!
To eat your food and drink your beer!

Susan in the Boonies said...

It was God-ordained: they left it for you, the Pearl of Great Price, and Moderate Appetite.