I wrote some columns a few years ago that few of you have seen. They were on the old version of the site before I redesigned it.
(Entire redesign process: [log in to Blogger] “Oooh, new templates!” [click] “Hey, where are my columns?”
The weather forecast was wonderfully wrong today. Sixty-five degrees, sunny the whole day, and the supposed afternoon showers didn't show until nightfall. I rode my bike for an hour and a half on the local trails.
I love bike trails, but they invariably have boring names like "W&O Trail" or--when the park department wants to turn on the Shake n’ Bake--"C&O Trail."
Where is "The Trail Less Traveled"? "A Trail of Two Cities"? "T-Rail Owens?" I'm already vibrating my lips like a motorcycle when I turn corners. Silliness isn’t a problem. Reality is.
Then again, reality occasionally has its moments. After my bike ride, I was parched and went in 7-11 to buy a Slurpee. My experience, without exaggeration:
ME: "Hey, can I try the flavors? I don't know which one I want."
7-11 EMPLOYEE: "Breakfast?"
(Perhaps this is a good point to mention that I have a severe stutter and many of my conversations start with mutual confusion.)
ME: "Take two. Can I try the Slurpee flavors?"
7-11 EMPLOYEE: "Try the flavors?"
ME: "Yes!"
7-11 EMPLOYEE: [thought hard for a moment] "No?"
In my younger years, I would have left, disappointed. Not this time. One, for all I knew, he may have thought we were still talking about breakfast. Two, he made a fatal mistake. He left doubt in his voice, like a person who is asked, “Do you want me to not not punch you?” Time to repeat what I want until he caves in.
ME: "I want to try the flavors before I buy a Slurpee."
7-11 EMPLOYEE: “Um...”
ME: "I'd like to try the flavors before I buy a Slurpee."
7-11 EMPLOYEE: “Try...flavors?”
(His manager notices the commotion and comes over.)
MANAGER: "What's going on?"
7-11 EMPLOYEE (about to cry): "He wants to try the flavors."
The manager, used to serving food critics, got me a
They were both staring at me. These two were smarter than I thought. My original plan was to sample Dixie-cup sized Slurpee flavors until I was bloated, and then dash out of the store on my bike while those suckers foot the bill. But that was a trick no pony was going to pull on them.
At first, I tried to ignore them. I sipped the sour strawberry. Tangy and very promising. I advanced towards the root beer.
MANAGER: "You don't want that. It's frozen."
It didn't look more frozen than the other frozen Slurpees, but who was I to argue? I’m not an ice technician. I grabbed the handle for cherry.
MANAGER (and let me remind you that this is not made up): "That's cherry. Why do you want to try cherry?"
I turned around and gave my biggest fake smile. They both left. But her words made me think.
Perhaps his question was not accusatory but philosophical. Why did I want to try cherry? Why did I want to try any of the flavors? Why did I want to go bike riding, or eat Cheerios for breakfast, or scratch myself in CVS but refrain from doing so because of those damn 1984-style mirrors?
It tasted good. Is that enough of an answer? I feel almost sacrilegious saying this, but...could there be more to life than Slurpees?
I thought about this until I saw Blue Raspberry.
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