2003-01-21

There was some embarrassment tonight involving hot dogs. Unfortunately, there was some history about these hot dogs. They were regular Oscar Meyer Hot Dogs, purchased on sale by the roommate. However, I mocked these dogs. I made references to trailers and such. I spoke like Cletus. I remarked that there was still a frozen dozen of the Hebrew National in the freezer, but these hot dogs were only like a buck or something. No doubt they had fallen off a truck or perhaps the truck had fallen off of them. I�m not really sure. Tonight, the hot dogs were made. All 10 of them, dropped into the boiling water during a commercial break. I was in my room, trying to figure out what to wear tomorrow, and whether or not I wanted to go out later. Went to get a glass of water and there they sat, fully cooked and sitting there. Tempting me. In my defense, I hadn�t eaten since lunch, and that consisted of a pint of Happi House salad. I honestly blacked out; when I came to I was eating one of the hot dogs. I�d shoved half of it in my mouth and was chewing away like mad. There was a shifting of shadows and I spun around quickly to view the roommate, staring at me with an evil gleam in his eye. I hid the remainder of the hot dog behind my back, the heat making my fist clammy. �What are you doing?� �Nughthun� I mumbled, trying vainly to swallow surreptitiously, while my fight or flight mechanisms had me judging if I should try to get past his bulk in the door or go for the eyes. �I cooked them all, you can have as many as you want� I nodded. Finished swallowing the nitrate laden bit of cow offal. Oh how I hated them at that moment. Displaced rage for being caught. It was now fair game, this incident. If I had been able to secure the dog with more finesse it would have been one of those unspoken things that sometimes destroy relationships, but in ours makes it possible. Discretion and respect mean that I don�t bring up the fact that 15 minutes or so after the roommate goes to bed he�s in the bathroom washing his hands. He doesn�t mention that whenever I do laundry, I take days to iron, and leave bundles of pants and shirts draped everywhere. We are not some modern day odd couple, it�s just that we have very different ideas about how things should be done in regards to our living space. We get along fine, understanding each other�s boundaries and comfort zones and adjusting accordingly. Nothing else was said, as he busied about preparing his dinner, his smug countenance nearly shouting in the confines of our kitchen. To salve my bruised ego, I escaped to the local Starbucks where I was lulled into complacency by the hustle of the city streets. I chatted with friends and centered myself, squashing any lessons that may or may not have been learned deep down so they wouldn�t spring up and bother me the next time the roommate does something silly. Such is how we live together.

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