Wednesday, July 29, 2015

PICKLES!

Pickles! They're always around whether you want them or not. On hamburgers from McDonald's or next to club sandwiches at the deli. Nobody likes them yet their always there. Pickles are to food what Donald Trump is to politics.  

I've always wondered about the ubiquitous nature of pickles when it comes to sandwiches. Why does Chik-Fil-A ruin their otherwise perfect chicken sandwiches with the bitter tang of a dill pickle slice? Why do delis insists on laying down a large slab of pickle next to a hot turkey on a croissant? Why do I need to specifically tell Wendy's to hold the pickle on the Bacon-nator? 

The odd thing is that there are people who like the pickle. Really! These are known as "crazy people" but that's OK, God loves us all, the people who like pickles and everybody else. 

OK, if you like pickles, fine. You know what, who am I to judge? If I'm OK with your life choice to identify with a different gender, then I guess I should be OK with your choice to actually like pickles with your sandwiches. Although the gender thing I actually understand. Pickles? What the hell are you thinking?  

Sorry. 

So let's assume for a moment that you actually (shudder!) like pickles with your sandwiches. Fine. But shouldn't it be your choice to ADD the pickle? Why is it my responsibility to AVOID the pickle? 

I have no evidence to back any of this up but my view is that at least 3/4 of the planet doesn't want a damn pickle on or next to their sandwich. Here's how I arrive at that concept. I divide the world of sandwich purchasing people into four groups. 

Group 1. The proactive. They remember to say in their order "Hold the pickle." Woe and lamentations unto thee that doth not removeth thine pickle which offends thee. 

Group 2. The reactive. They forgot to say "Hold the pickle" and are forced to commit a pickle-ectomy, lifting off the slimy green slice from the sandwich or tentatively grasping the tip of the length of pickle brushing against the sandwich and pushing it as far away as possible.  

Group 3. The inactive. They don't want the pickle but they're already half way through the sandwich and have lost the will to give a damn anymore. They have resigned themselves to a living hell where sandwiches are dominated by pickles. They don't like it but what can they do? The poor souls have just given up. 

Group 4. The radioactive. They like the pickle. These people must be avoided. 

And that's assuming an even 25% split for each group. I would dare say that group 4 accounts for way less than 25% of the population.   

So...pickles. What the f**k, people? 

Years ago, I arrived at what could be the only answer. That pickle on or near your sandwich is not just a pickle. 

It's a mafia mandated pickle.  

That's right. Forget drugs, human trafficking and murder. The engine that drives criminal enterprise is the pickle. Think about it! Pickles are everywhere! Yet virtually nobody wants them! If I ran a hamburger joint or a deli, why would I invest in jars and jars and more jars of something nobody wants unless I had to? 

"It's a nice sandwich shop you got here." 

"Thanks!" 

"I was wondering if I could interest you in a few hundred jars of pickles?"

"No, not really. Nobody likes pickles." 

"That's a fact, huh?"

"Well, yeah." 

"Did you know that pickles are great at keeping sandwich shops from being burned to the ground?" 

"Is that a threat?"

"What? Threat? Me? No, just trying to sell some pickles, is all. And help a fellow businessman to keep his sandwich shop all nice and not burned down to the ground if you catch my drift." 

"So how much for a jar of pickles?"  

And that is why the sandwich you want has the pickle you don't want. Organized crime has their hooks in the sandwich industry. 

But don't give in to despair. One day we will live in a world free from crime! 

One day we will live in a world free from tyranny!

One day we will live in a world free from pickles!

And I'm so glad my suffering amuses you.   




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