I am generally one of those people who you needn’t worry about impressing with fancy labels, exacting detail or taste perfection. No the only thing I need in my ‘top drawer’ is a reasonably clean pair of ‘man panties’ and maybe a sock (or two) preferably without holes in them. Now I enjoy high-brow niceties like everyone else from time to time, and more power to you if you can bring home enough extra bacon to go ‘whole hog’ on the good stuff. But for me, usually I will be just as happy with a turkey burger over a beef patty or fermented Nyquil instead of Champagne.
At Thanksgiving once my Brother-in-law was helping out with the feast and we were short on butter, so naturally I remarked “that explains the room filled with guns”. After he ignored my snide remark, he asked if I would be so kind as to procure a pound of butter for the cooks. Of course I obliged and asked if anyone else needed anything before I left, since these were the days that I did not carry a cell phone. Since it was THANKSGIVING, despite my best efforts, no discount supermarkets were open, but I did find a corner convenience store which was very busy. That makes sense because everyone knows that Thanksgiving is synonymous with Malt Liquor, cigarettes, and lottery tickets.
Amazingly the little store HAD butter but it was a whopping $5 a pound which was exactly $3 more than the margarine sticks next to it. Though it was the best I could hope for on a holiday with limited vendor choices, that margarine was still an eye-popping 100% price increase over what I typically paid at home. Anyway being practical I parted with the FOUR bucks and bought twice as many of the margarine sticks but I was still a dollar ahead over buying only one pound of real butter. I knew it was a special meal and ‘doubling down’ on buttery-goodness was the least I could do to show heartfelt appreciation for my extended family’s generous home-cooked sacrifice.
Well needless to say, my return was not greeted with as much enthusiasm as I had expected. My Brother-in-law was nowhere to be found and my distracted sister-in-law was busy finishing off some side dishes so I gave her my bountiful bag of buttery generosity. “No matter”, I thought, ”one’s good deeds need no demonstrative reward” – just knowing I calorically contributed, and soon will share in a savory family meal is the ONLY acknowledgement I need.
While waiting for the finishing touches of our lavish spread to materialize, I wandered back to the family room to terrorize my nephew and his Dad. The kid was all alone happily playing some type of video game on the television. I watched a few minutes in silence but then noticed on the coffee table, my Brother-in-law’s favorite tea mug, still warm awaiting his return. Now curious, I queried “Where’s your Dad?” to my nephew and he simply grunted ‘Out’. “Out – Out Where?” I asked suspiciously. My nephew kind of squirmed and shifted uncomfortably and then said “To get REAL butter … after you left he worried you’d get the CHEAP fake stuff”.