Orange Death
Here's a story for y'all. It's 100% true, and it happened just this week. On Monday, I was standing at my bus stop waiting to go home from work. It was getting towards dinner time and I was powerful hungry. Cruel fate had placed my bus stop in Bellevue ten yards from a Dairy Queen. For a hungry hypoglycemic (read: unable to eat ice cream without suffering health consequences) this is a most vexing thing. To distract myself from my ice cream cravings I phoned a friend and we talked about my burning desire to eat ice cream. We also talked about hippies.
The bus took its sweet time.
But eventually it did come, and eventually I did get bused all the way across Seattle over to Market Time Grocery where I stocked up on foods that would be more hypoglycemically correct. I was hungrier than ever, so I headed home ready to whip my purchases into a nutritious meal. I only had a few blocks to go to reach home when a van full of uncles and cousins pulled up.
"We're going to Carkeek Park. Wanna go?"
I work in a cubicle all day, so I am an immense sucker for parks. So against the grumblings of my stomach I decided to hop into the car. As we drove up the long road to the park, I went through my bag looking for anything that wouldn't require preparation to eat. The only thing that fit the bill was a 1 lb bag of baby carrots.
Baby carrots are not a satisfactory meal. But I'd torn through nearly half the bag by the time we got to the park. I said it before, I'll say it again. I was hungry. A sufficiently hungry man thinks nothing of eating a half lb of unadorned baby carrots in one sitting. What needs to be done, needs to be done.
So we got to the park. Before the sun set, we ran on the beach, played zombie tag and wrestled. It was the sort of the carefree, idyllic good time that characterizes the best of family fun.
On the way out we saw a sign warning us not to eat the "toxic shellfish" due to pollution in the area.
"How do you feel about toxic shellfish" my uncle Jerry asked me lackadaisically.
"I'm in favor of them... they combine two of my favorite things: delicious shellfish...
and
danger."
Everyone decided there was only one way to end this perfect family outing: with ice cream. And by everyone, I mean everyone but me.
So, I found myself come full circle. Sitting in a Baskin Robbins, face to face with my old sugary nemesis and only a half lb of baby carrots to fend off the intense hunger that was returning with a vengeance. They ate ice cream while I sat in the corner being mocked by fate.
By the time we'd left I'd finished the entire bag or carrots. Eating the whole pound of carrots had taken me less than 90 minutes. I felt sort of bloated.
Now that's pretty much the end of the story. And you're probably wondering to yourself: "Nathan, what the hell kind of ending is that? How is a story about eating a bag of carrots a story at all." Well the fact is, this story isn't much of anything without a "secret twist up wow finish." So here you go:
The Secret Twist Up Wow Finish
So the morals here are obvious:
1. Eat ice cream. As an additional precaution, never eat anything healthy. Ever.
2. If you make facetious comments about polluted shellfish, God will punish your snarkiness by making a bright orange mixture of fiber, beta carotene, stomach acid and shiga toxin shoot up your esophagus and all over your bathroom sink at four in the morning.
The bus took its sweet time.
But eventually it did come, and eventually I did get bused all the way across Seattle over to Market Time Grocery where I stocked up on foods that would be more hypoglycemically correct. I was hungrier than ever, so I headed home ready to whip my purchases into a nutritious meal. I only had a few blocks to go to reach home when a van full of uncles and cousins pulled up.
"We're going to Carkeek Park. Wanna go?"
I work in a cubicle all day, so I am an immense sucker for parks. So against the grumblings of my stomach I decided to hop into the car. As we drove up the long road to the park, I went through my bag looking for anything that wouldn't require preparation to eat. The only thing that fit the bill was a 1 lb bag of baby carrots.
Baby carrots are not a satisfactory meal. But I'd torn through nearly half the bag by the time we got to the park. I said it before, I'll say it again. I was hungry. A sufficiently hungry man thinks nothing of eating a half lb of unadorned baby carrots in one sitting. What needs to be done, needs to be done.
So we got to the park. Before the sun set, we ran on the beach, played zombie tag and wrestled. It was the sort of the carefree, idyllic good time that characterizes the best of family fun.
On the way out we saw a sign warning us not to eat the "toxic shellfish" due to pollution in the area.
"How do you feel about toxic shellfish" my uncle Jerry asked me lackadaisically.
"I'm in favor of them... they combine two of my favorite things: delicious shellfish...
and
danger."
Everyone decided there was only one way to end this perfect family outing: with ice cream. And by everyone, I mean everyone but me.
So, I found myself come full circle. Sitting in a Baskin Robbins, face to face with my old sugary nemesis and only a half lb of baby carrots to fend off the intense hunger that was returning with a vengeance. They ate ice cream while I sat in the corner being mocked by fate.
By the time we'd left I'd finished the entire bag or carrots. Eating the whole pound of carrots had taken me less than 90 minutes. I felt sort of bloated.
Now that's pretty much the end of the story. And you're probably wondering to yourself: "Nathan, what the hell kind of ending is that? How is a story about eating a bag of carrots a story at all." Well the fact is, this story isn't much of anything without a "secret twist up wow finish." So here you go:
The Secret Twist Up Wow Finish
So the morals here are obvious:
1. Eat ice cream. As an additional precaution, never eat anything healthy. Ever.
2. If you make facetious comments about polluted shellfish, God will punish your snarkiness by making a bright orange mixture of fiber, beta carotene, stomach acid and shiga toxin shoot up your esophagus and all over your bathroom sink at four in the morning.