I spied it in the corner, almost hidden beneath a teetering tower
of dishtowels in the kitchen goods corner. I knew I didn’t have long, the auditorium
was so full of junk that the walls threatened to swallow me whole. There were
small people scurrying around on the floor, in and out of makeshift aisles
between mystifying stacks of detritus. I didn’t want to be there. I had tried
so hard not to go. I had left a sick kid at home and gone innocently to the
school to retrieve the other. She asked if we could go, but we were on the one
way street and she knew I would never go around the whole stupid block again. I
acted like I was trying. Shoot honey! We can’t go if we can’t park. She
understood, because she’s awesome. So when I had to stop and allow a car to
back out of the front row parking spot, I resigned myself to the fact that we
were going to have to go. I checked my cash supply and found a ten spot. Okay,
I said, let’s do this thing.
I took a deep breath, threw back my shoulders, and walked
through the gates of hell into the annual school rummage sale.
Imagine this with zombies crawling around. That's how it felt when I was there. |
My girl heard me gasp Oh No. She took my hand and gave me a tug
and a winning smile. Come on, mom!
I avoided the middle, she knows me better than to think we
were clothes shopping in there. I found the book section and steadied myself by
browsing the titles. I encouraged my girl to find something for herself. As
soon as she found something, we’d be out of there.
She soon beckoned me from the other side of the room,
gesturing toward a brand spanking new pair of roller skates with purple wheels
in the size bigger than her feet. The sticker said $4. I was nodding
enthusiastically as I made my way over, YES, yes. There you go! Have those skates, honey, and let’s get the
hell out of….
Then I spied it in the corner. A flash of silver, a neatly
coiled electrical cord. Latched for safety, but promising double sided nonstick
grilling surfaces inside. A panini press! I died.
I only had $10, and the skates cost $4. There was no sticker
on my coveted item. I had to have it. Had to! I picked it up and looked at my
girl: Do you think we can get both of these for $10? She eyed me
suspiciously. I’m getting these skates, right? Let’s just go ask.
I waited in line with the minions, and when my turn
approached, I did my best to pretend that
my beautiful panini grill was a woeful piece of shit. I reported that the piece
of shit didn’t have a price on it, insinuating through my disdain that it was such
a hunk of junk, it was probably meant for the trash so no one had bothered to tag
it. Maybe I batted my eyelashes, just once or twice. Consultations were made,
comparisons to other small appliances. It was busy. Finally, a shrug and a
shouted responses by the mom in charge: “I don’t know, three bucks?”
Do you know what makes any food delicious? Pressing it in between
two hot surfaces inside of some class of breadstuff. It even redeems breakfast.
Rocking the purple wheels like nobody's business |
Panini Heaven!
ReplyDeleteWhat an awesome double-score, Jacqueline. I'd really really love to see your girl in a brand spanking new pair of roller skates with purple wheels in the size bigger than her feet.
And I'd *really* like to taste tomato/basil/mozarella on french bread, peperoni pizza on garlic sourdough, egg/bacon/potato/cheese on flatbread, and turkey/havarti/pesto on wheat pressed between double sided nonstick grilling surfaces.
Yes please, and thank you.
Great post, Sistah.
Love you.
Ellie
Jacquie, we're planning a tag sale at our condo complex - that picture scared the life out of me- But good catch on the panini press. love, mom
ReplyDelete(Sorry editing issues)
ReplyDeleteWas just a foodie passerby commenting on how this post made me snort and almost cry with laughter. I love the style of writing and you pretty much summarized my reaction when I was dragged to some of these places by my ex, though I never found anything as awesome as a panini press. As a professional chef I guess I should tell you to skip the press and go with the old fashion method, but meh. Easy and fast are sometimes a good thing.
Okay, now it was totally worth it, right? I can't belive you don't like those events! They are the best. (Although yes, they do make you want to wash your hands.)
ReplyDeleteNew shiny skates, purple no less, AND a pannini press? For $7. C'mon, that's FUN, isn't it?
Okay, well even if you don't find it so -- very nicely written girlfriend.... "in and out of makeshift aisles between mystifying stacks of detritus" Love this! Love you.
xo,
beth
Added the skate photo for you, El. She wears them all the time now, it's kind of fun to have her at eye - well, chin - level. I could do a whole other post about what I've created in this thing. We had panini dinner again last night, pizza themed for the fam but a delicious chicken/broccoli number for me with some asian flavors. Yum.
ReplyDeleteHi Tim, glad you stopped by! Is the old fashioned method pressed between two cast iron skillets? Or a hot brick on top of one? I don't even have one cast iron skillet, I am the polar opposite of a professional chef. I think I could scrape up a brick somewhere, but I will probably just stick with the fancy hinged press. It's awesome.
Mom, I'm sorry you have to deal with condo rummage nonsense. There are more photos I could send you, you will be afraid.
Beth, you crazy. Those things are hell. I need LESS clutter in my life, not more.
ps: I love you people.
Jacquie
Awesome skates, AND outfit!
ReplyDeleteThe key is, J, you get rid of something else when you bring something new(ish) home. (At least most of the time.)
And, hey, wait are you calling the panini press clutter? lol
Ohdeargodinheavenabove, she is awesome. And very exuberant.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm with you, sistah -- those tag/rummage/garage/yard/swapmeet sales are pure unadulterated Hell On Earth.
E.
Love it, Jacq. Your girl is adorable! xo
ReplyDelete