Yesterday, when I posed my midlife crisis question, I was scheduled to meet with That’s Not Chinese for dinner. Originally we planned to meet at her house. Due to Unfazed not feeling well, we changed the location to my house. “I know I’m your meat source, but I’m just going to grab a rotisserie chicken,” That’s Not Chinese advised. She says this because, although I’m not opposed to red meat, I don’t often eat it. She, on the other hand, would bathe in it if she could.
Being that she arrived at my house before I was home from work, she took her position on the stoop and, tempted by the delicious smells of the rotisserie chicken, opened the bag and started eating. She phoned me to advise me of the situation, “You aren’t here so I have no other choice than to eat this by hand. Your neighbors probably think I’m nuts. If I had a wine opener I would open this bottle of wine and start drinking.” “I doubt they think you’re nuts; I’m sure they know it to be a fact. Corkscrew, it’s called a corkscrew. You should go knock on doors and see if any of my neighbors have one you can borrow,” I replied. “Oh, look who has come to visit, it’s Nora,” That’s Not Chinese, omnivore and lover of cats and shiny objects, stated.
By the time I got home Nora had retreated to her on stoop and That’s Not Chinese was extending her hand to me – not to shake my hand or welcome me home, rather, to alert me of her midlife crisis. “Look at this! We have got to take care of this,” she said, all the while shaking her right hand in my direction. “What is it?” I asked. “Fur. It’s fur. I had been petting Nora with my left hand and eating chicken out of the bag with my right when I thought I would be kind and share some chicken with her. I put a piece in my right hand thinking she would eat it, which she did, but she then rubbed her body all over my hand. Now it’s greasy and furry and I can’t eat any more chicken until it’s clean. I’ve been sitting like this for at least five minutes. It’s horrible. We’ve got to get in the house and clean this off quick!”
Fortunately, we were able to remedy this situation with a little soap and water and all was good until a few hours later when That’s Not Chinese was cleaning up and accidentally flicked a large piece of chicken into my (full) wine glass. It was at this point that she almost peed her pants; if it weren’t for Kegels we would have had another midlife crisis on our hands and, more importantly, in her pants. Unfortunately, my midlife crisis could not be diverted. Although wine and chicken are generally a good pairing, they don’t make for a good sangria. Alas, I had to throw out the red wine in my glass. Doing so kind of made me want to replace it with a red convertible – luckily, I exercised self control and, instead, just poured myself another glass. Midlife righteous.