Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Angel Hair Pasta

I'm hiding in my room. 

It was at dinner time. I'd asked Mike if he wanted spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. He said yes, so I got to it. Mike prefers angel hair pasta, so I made angel hair pasta. I made a separate pot of just sauce and pasta for the vegetarian. I've been making separate meals for him every night. 

No, my vegetarian boarder hasn't moved out yet. He's been here ten weeks now.  He's missed more apartment opportunities than meals.

But tonight, as he served himself a large helping of his specially-made meal, he lectured me about the difference between spaghetti and angel hair pasta. I KNOW the difference between spaghetti and angel hair pasta. 

When I was a kid, all soda was 'Coke.' When people said Coke, someone else might ask what kind and then it would come out that what they really wanted was an Orange Crush. When I moved to the East coast, I found out that not everyone said it that way. They called it soda. Some dialects called it pop. We called it Coke. Go figure. 

I also remember how someone laughed at the way I pronounced 'peony' as if I was in a piney woods. Hey, it was how I was raised to speak the word. I remember how stupid that person made me feel. That was at least twenty years ago. 

The vegetarian boarder thinks he's smarter than I am, thinks he might properly educate me if he keeps lecturing. Or maybe he's just mad that I made him clean his shower after he clogged the drain and grew pink slime on the shower curtain. 

Thank you for listening, jules

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