Champagne Taste
A few weeks back I was dogsitting for some rich people in Princeton. They have three labs, and whenever someone comes in the house they get very excited. They come running up, and bark, and sniff your crotch, and wag their tails, and one of them jumps on you. It's intense and wild, but lots of dogs do this, and they get over it. For some reason, this family likes to overlap them leaving, and me getting there. So when I arrived on that Saturday, the skinny jeans-clad husband was home with the dogs. I came into the kitchen, and they got excited about my arrival, and were being annoying, so to redirect them, he was like "Guys HEYHEYHEY, DOWN!! Hey, how about a Kong, you guys?"
If you don't know what a Kong is, go Google it or watch a YouTube tutorial. Go get woke about Kongs.
The rich guy pulled out three Kongs from the sink. Normally they fill these things up with peanut butter, and a treat, and then the dogs chew and squeak on them until they've eaten all the PB out and gotten the treat. It occupies them for like ten minutes, and then they relax.
"You know what guys?" said the rich guy, "There's some filet mignon from last night in the fridge so let's use that in here!"
Then I watched him remove a Styrofoam takeaway container from the refrigerator, take a beautiful, perfect steak from it, and put it on the cutting board. He took out a very sharp and high quality knife from the holder and proceeded to cut the filet mignon into strips. It was exactly the way I love it; pink in the middle, with lots of black pepper on it, grass fed, without hormones or GMOs, free range, etc.. The knife slid through the flawless cut of steak effortlessly, slicing it into perfect strips. I imagined the steak in fajitas, with green peppers and onions, while I watched the rich moneybags stuff each piece into the Kongs. The dogs watched intently. They were all over that steak. For a minute, looking in their eyes, I felt like I should be sitting on the floor with them, patiently super-focused on the specialty being prepared for me, drooling and licking my chops like the depraved piece of shit that I am. The steak probably came from some very expensive rich person restaurant. It looked like it needed nothing; no butter, no A1.
Gazing at the second kitchen sink, which was full of dog bowls and more Kongs, I thought about asking the rich guy, "Hey, could you load one of those up for me too? And I can chew it out like them? I'll lay on the floor with the dogs. I'm cool with it. Please can I get some of that filet mignon that you're feeding to your pets and probably paid $80 for? I'd be ever so grateful..."
Lol life, right?
If you don't know what a Kong is, go Google it or watch a YouTube tutorial. Go get woke about Kongs.
The rich guy pulled out three Kongs from the sink. Normally they fill these things up with peanut butter, and a treat, and then the dogs chew and squeak on them until they've eaten all the PB out and gotten the treat. It occupies them for like ten minutes, and then they relax.
"You know what guys?" said the rich guy, "There's some filet mignon from last night in the fridge so let's use that in here!"
Then I watched him remove a Styrofoam takeaway container from the refrigerator, take a beautiful, perfect steak from it, and put it on the cutting board. He took out a very sharp and high quality knife from the holder and proceeded to cut the filet mignon into strips. It was exactly the way I love it; pink in the middle, with lots of black pepper on it, grass fed, without hormones or GMOs, free range, etc.. The knife slid through the flawless cut of steak effortlessly, slicing it into perfect strips. I imagined the steak in fajitas, with green peppers and onions, while I watched the rich moneybags stuff each piece into the Kongs. The dogs watched intently. They were all over that steak. For a minute, looking in their eyes, I felt like I should be sitting on the floor with them, patiently super-focused on the specialty being prepared for me, drooling and licking my chops like the depraved piece of shit that I am. The steak probably came from some very expensive rich person restaurant. It looked like it needed nothing; no butter, no A1.
Gazing at the second kitchen sink, which was full of dog bowls and more Kongs, I thought about asking the rich guy, "Hey, could you load one of those up for me too? And I can chew it out like them? I'll lay on the floor with the dogs. I'm cool with it. Please can I get some of that filet mignon that you're feeding to your pets and probably paid $80 for? I'd be ever so grateful..."
Lol life, right?