There is one perfect food out there. It's juicy, it's warm, and it's wrapped in a bed of flaky pastry. This wonder is called Pig in a Blanket, and it's the best thing that has ever happened to me. It is, without a doubt, the most delicious food ever created by God, or at least ever created by the public school system.
Perhaps you are dumb and have no idea what I am talking about, so let me enlighten you. Think elementary school, hot lunch. Think about pushing your tray down the lunch line, and there, behind the steamy glass, lay hot dogs wrapped in dough and then baked into a perfect meal. I remember them stacked, side by side like soldiers, their soft juicy insides hugged in the warm crispy pastry. I would hold my tray out, hands shaking, as the Pig in a Blanket was placed on my tray. I wolfed it down and then begged my friends for theirs. It was always the highlight of my week (next to throwing gravel at Laura, the fat girl, during recess of course).
Now, it is hard to find a Pig in a Blanket. Once I found the mini-version at a cocktail party, on a silver tray. Each of them were stabbed with a glittery toothpick. I ended up eating about 35 of them and then throwing up. Or like yesterday, trying to recreate it, I wrapped a piece of ham in a tortilla and put it in a microwave for 3 minutes. It was gross, but I ate it anyway, because it was either that or stale Fiber Bran.
Tonight, while I sleep, I will dream of them. I will dream of sleeping on them, rolling around, naked, rubbing myself in the grease and the fat and the warmth. I will dream of tossing them up like gold coins in the sheer joy of their existence. Finally, I will I eat them, one after another, until I throw up. And only then will I be truly happy.
Quarter Life Whatever
3 years ago