I was starving so I ate a cold sliver of pizza crust as I grabbed a can of soup from the cabinet. I slapped the handle of the can opener down and let the gear grip the edge of the can as the blade punctured its top, slicing along the rim.
No dog came running up expecting to be fed, thank god. I love that stupid dog, but honestly, I can do without him in my life. I can't imagine hurting a living being, but sometimes, sometimes a certain being can get on your last nerve, and you're looking them in the eyes and you know it's go time.
The can pops free and I toss the broth, noodles, vegetables, and chicken cubes into a pot. I flick on the burner and pull out the drawer, grab a spoon. I stir the soup and pick out the chicken chunks, tossing them back into the empty can. Gotta keep being vegetarian. Been so long now.
I don't even miss meat. I always was squeamish as I gnawed on a chicken drumstick, or cutting fat from a steak, forget about eating fish or ribs. I thought of the animal, how it suffered before having its carcass slaughtered and manhandled, battered then deep fried. It probably screamed.
Once my girlfriend showed me those videos of what they have to endure and how much they suffer before they are killed. The conditions they are raised in, cages just bigger than their bodies in overcrowded factories filled with filth and treated like their lives mean nothing by those handling them, and really, they don't. Once I saw that, I stopped eating meat.
Well, it took awhile. It was hard giving up Wendy's, especially their Spicy Chicken Sandwich and the Chicken Nuggets. Once I saw the baby chicks all tossed into a pile about to be ground into nuggets, well that was what threw the switch. The next time I chewed on gristle at the food court at the mall, I was done.
Three years later, of eating pasta and rice, fast food with the meat taken out, tons of pizza, and of course, chicken noodle soup with the chicken plucked out, and I'm still sticking to it. Sorta. I mean I know this is chicken broth. It had chicken pieces sitting in it for as long as it was on the shelf, and before that.
I tried the vegetarian soups, and they're so bland. I mean, not bad but something about the chicken noodle, or chicken and rice, or chickarina, Italian wedding, chicken dumpling, chunky stew, it was all so good god dammit. At least I didn't eat burgers anymore.
I went to the freezer and pulled out a Grillers Prime frozen patty from Morningstar Farms, the best, grade A, non-meat that tastes just like a hamburger yet made of tofu-soy-something, fake burger you can get. I tossed it into the toaster over and got out a bun. I'd let it toast after I wrap up the soup and just before the burger finished cooking. It was a system. A routine.
I dumped the boiling soup into the bowl, dropped the spoon in it, rinsed out the pot and left it atop the dirty dishes in the sink. Ripped off a paper towel, scooped up the bowl, and brought it into the living room. I placed it into the center of the tv tray, and went back for a glass of orange soda.
The prime was just about done cooking, so I place the bun inside, letting it get a bit warm and toasty, and got the ketchup, cheese and pickles. I open the cheese first and place it on the sizzling patty. It melts just a tad as I carefully pop the two halves of the bun onto a paper plate, spatula the un-cheeseburger onto it, then decorate the yellow canvas with green ridged, dill circles, and a red spiral of condiment.
I close it up, run back into the living room and dive in. I try the soup first even though it's too hot every time. The spoon scalds my tongue a bit. I take a sip of orange refreshment and then start in on the cheeseburger. I finish the burger completely before allowing myself another sip of soup, but by now its cooled down enough to scarf down.
I lay back and close my eyes for a bit. It's so good, so familiar, I don't even need to think about dinner anymore. I buy a few cans of soup, a couple of boxes of frozen fake meat patties, and a batch of rolls. If I feel fancy I'll get some Italian ices from Uncle Louie G's down the block.
But I don't feel like going outside, and for right now anyway, I'm satisfied. I watched a few of the new movies I bought online, smoked a bowl, wrote a chunk of words. Yeah, a pretty good day considering I didn't get any sleep last night. I really didn't sleep much at all, and after all that dancing too.
The aches and pains came back; I tried to force the fullness of my meal to keep the goodness spinning round my body, but no luck. I really did feel worn out. I hadn't danced that much in forever, it was such a release. I felt like I stopped pushing a rock up a hill, but now it's rolled back over me, ran me down.
I could read a comic, or finish up my third re-read of Catcher in the Rye. It was slightly harder to get through this time. Maybe listen to some Doors and chill out for awhile. A hot shower would be good, but that'll put me to sleep. Hmmm.
My ears perked up as I head the gate hinge squeak, and then drop back into place with a rattling slam. The dog was huffing and puffing as its claws tapped on the concrete. Her keys jingled and her shoes clacked as she came down the steps. She was home, with that fucking dog.
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