"I'm Not a Short Order Cook" -- Linda Thomas

Does anyone have odd things that they take special note of? For instance, maybe you're especially aware of how clean peoples' shoe strings are when walking down the street, something mundane like that. Well, ever since I was a kid, I always paid special note to how people eat. Figures right? Vince paying special attention to food -- who'd have thunk it? Touche. While we're on the subject, I also take notice of quirky ways people cook, too. I do all of this because I find it amusing. Whether the habits are annoying, outrageous or puzzling I find it all amusing.


For instance, right now, I'm a house guest right now, staying with two gracious childhood friends. Both of whom have ridiculous palates. My boy Gee for instance, doesn't like tomatoes or ketchup, but eats spaghetti 5 days a week. Is that not ridiculous? There's a whole host of things that he doesn't eat. His list of no-no's is as long and trivial as a 7-year-old child's would be. Sadly, I've committed his capricious list to my failing memory because I cook a lot and Gee will hit you with comments like these, "Awwwww V, you put mushrooms in this?! V, I don't like mushrooms." That's when I briefly take a break from slaving over the stove to apologize for confusing mushrooms with some other food. Usually I'll pop my head out of the kitchen to see Gee with a grimace on his face as he picks whatever it is out of the dish or scrapes something of his bread. It's downright comical.

Then we have my man Chuck, whose palette is just as ridiculous because he's on the other end of the spectrum. He makes these wild concoctions that don't even sound right in theory, so I'm sure they can't taste any good. One time I saw him preparing a turkey sandwich with the following ingredients: American cheese, pepperjack cheese, provolone cheese, horseradish, mayo, mustard, salt, pepper, seasoning salt and adobo. What?! I mean, what was left to put on it? I thought he was gonna start sprinkling pencil shavings on it.

There was another time we went to this Jewish deli in Rockville called Eat'zit. They have every type of meat, cheese, spread and bread you can think of. This cause Chuck's raging taste buds to hyperventilate and he lost it...He just went buckwild. Here is an actual transcript from his order

Server: "Hello sir, what can I get for you today?"
Charles: "Yeah, let me get a sandwich with ummm..."
"Lots to choose from, huh sir? Why don't we start with what bread you want" (if he only knew)
"OK let me get Ciabata on the bottom and a pesto tortilla wrap on the top"
Me: "Chuck what are you doing?"
"Yo, just chill. I'm gonna put you on."
"Sir, I don't know if that bread combination is feasible. It's very unorthodox."
"Trust me. Aight, now for the meat let me get some turkey, some ham, some roast beef, throw a lil salami on that bad boy, and some prosciutto, some bologna. You got any liverwurst back there? Some of that, too. American cheese, Muenster cheese, mozzarella, blue cheese, feta cheese. yall got goat cheese back there? aight hook that up. lettuce, tomato, cabbage, fresh rosemary. Squirt some lemon and lime on that bad boy."
"Wait sir, this is ridiculous. Look at my counter, it's a mess. I beg you to to regain your wits and end this shameful combination. Let's just call it a day, OK?"
"Aight, drip some chocolate sauce on it and we got a deal."

He's the worse. But what about the way people eat?

My younger sis Priscilla, a grown 24-year-old woman, can't eat any finger foods without food juice, crumbs or sauce engulfing her hands, plus she eats as slow as molassess and only chews on one side of her mouth. Even still, everytime my older sister Lyd and I go out to eat, she will inevitable drip something on her shirt and have to feverishly work to wipe it off before the stain sets. Making it worse, she usually accompanies the dripped sauce on her shirt with some lame exclamation like, "FOOEY!"

My big cousin Jason hummed when he ate. It'd be like the early 90s and he's humming "I Want To Sex You Up" while he chewing a mouthful of scrambled eggs. My cousin Ryan, Jason's younger brother -- only at hot dogs from about 6-10 years-old and he ate each hot dog in two bites. He'd bite off one half and shove it to the right side of his mouth and then shove the rest in the left side of his mouth and sit there looking ridiculous.

But at least he was a kid. My boys and I were visiting friends in NYC about 4 or 5 years ago and my dude Nisan, who was about 24-years-old at the time, had an experience at Ray's Famous in the Village. We're all standing there eating out slices like civilized people, when we turn to look at Ni and he has pepperoni juice dripping down his albino forearms. It was sad and hilarious.

Pops is disgusting. He does things like make turkey sandwiches, then take a knife and continuously add Miracle Whip to the tip of the sandwich. Which means that the bottle of Whip is riddled with his saliva. He also does weird things like grab a 2 liter of Pepsi out the fridge, fill a glass up with ice and then pour about 2 ounces of Pepsi, drink it down, then pour two more ounces. It had something to do with the temperature of the soda cascading over the ice. It was weird. He also had odd and completely wild cooking habits. My sis Lyd reminded me of one yesterday when text'd me about how Pops used to a PAINT SCRAPER to chop up the steak for cheesesteaks. Here's an except from her text: Dude, I was just thinking....Have you ever paid real attention to Daddy's cooking habits? Like...Has it ever occurred to you that he chopped up meat for steak sandwiches w/PAINT SCRAPERS! Since when is that a cooking utensil??!!? I had a taste for a steak sandwich & I was going to hunt for the steak "fillet" cuts...Then I was like...Man I don't have the "choppers"...LOL As my mind races to figure where I can cop them...I realize they were "semi-rusty" paint scrapers....

It's sad, but true. As a matter of fact I can remember one time getting restless for dinner and going down to the basement to ask Pops what was up with the goods...Only to find him down there sharpening the blade on his paint scraper to get, as he put it, "extra traction for this chop action."

My mother was bad too, but at least she had a reason. My lil bro Adam, we call him A-Easy these days, had really bad asthma back in the day and it made him allergic to almost everything. He couldn't eat any dairy products. No cheese, no milk, no butter, nothing. So Mom would do really crazy things that would adversely affect the whole family, just to appease Adam. Like make cookies with orange juice instead of milk. I can't tell you how disgusting it was. What's foul, though, is that Mom had this saying, "I'm not a short order cook." She'd use it whenever one of her five children would complain about something she made. Like maybe I would say, "Awww Mom, not kelbasa again! I can't stand polish sausage." To which she'd reply, "Oh please boy! Do you think I have time to cater to each and every one of your needs? Please! I'm cooking for 7 people here and 'I'm not a short order cook', so deal with it!" But I ask the jury: wouldn't making chocolate chip cookies with orange juice to accommodate one child and torture four others be considered a dumbfounding example short order cooking?

But by far, the most zany dude ever when it comes to food was and, to an extent, still is my man Vino. We call him Vino because back in the day, before he put on that married-man-weight, he resembled a wino. Anyways, Vino is about 5'2 or 5'3 and he always wore huge coats, especially during those frigid Buffalo winters. His penchant for rocking oversized trench-coats added to his wino look, as well. But the thing is that he used to keep the most unfathomable things in his trench coat pockets. I mean, he was the type of dude to pull a clock-radio out of one of his pockets. But what used to kill me is the food related items. Like spoons and forks. Not plastic spoons and forks he got from KFC, real-life silverware, with dry cream o' brocoli soup on it. And not just eating spoons either, I mean, this dude would pull out, like spoons you can stir Kool-Aid with. He always had some candy, too. Gummy bears were his thing. So you'd be standing next to this little grown man pulling gummy bears out of his trench coat pocket. Still, nothing was more outrageous than one time when we were all in a car and all of sudden we Vino starts fidgeting in his seat and we here this rustling sound...The next thing you know Vino is stuffing Salt & Vinegar potato chips in his mouth. So, we ask him to see the bag and he pulls out a whole family size bag! Not a Big Grab...A real bag of chips -- the kind that cost $2.00. We couldn't believe it.

Food and people, we have fun together don't we?

Vince's Guide To: Insults

First in a series -- Coming soon...

Unemployed and Loathing It

Let me make this clear: this no job thing is for lames. Seriously, how do people deal with this. I guess what makes things worse, is that I have no job and simeautaneously have no money. Which is usually how this works right? But for instance, sometimes people get laid off and then go kop some unemployment checks. Or they get a buyout contract. If that was my situation, then I'd be having big fun. Goin to brunch, hittin matinees, wandering up and down M Street in Georgetown or record shoppin in Adam's Morgan or hittin some Nats games at RFK.

In the meantime, I'm starting a temp gig at an office so I can get a couple checks these next couple weeks.

Thank goodness I have good and gracious friends here in the Strict. Otherwise, I'd be jobless, doughless and homeless.

The good thing about DC is that there are some free things to do. Every single one of the Smithsonian museums are free. Still, I've yet to hit the Holocaust museum -- only, I'm cautious about going to such a somber place, when I'm already a bit sullen about my current state of employment.

Maybe I'll just head to Borders and read books for free and spend hours previewing albums I haven't bought.

Regardless, let me reiterate: this no job thing is for lames.

Here's quick job search update, however:

Detroit: The Freep moved on a dude that has been stringing for them the past couple years. He was the only dude they interviewed and I respect that. I know some good dudes at the Post that have been stringing since they were toddlers and have absolutely no shot at a Post gig at I feel sorry for them. I know a good dude in Orlando doing the same, and I hope the Sentinel gives him a look next time they have an opening. Regardless, I'm still a little miffed that Detroit didn't even bother interviewing other candidates.

Wichita: The editor told me they are waiting to interview a more experienced candidate before they bring me in. This is not so disheartening, since I'd rather chop of my left scrode than live in Wichita, but yall know a dude's situation. At this point, I'd take a gig over my left scrode -- no matter the pain. I'm committed like that. Plus, with my cornball love life, I don't use the things anyway...So what good are they?

Randomness: Does anyone else find the different names Italians have for their genitalias as funny as I do? I once heard a Hollywood gangster call his scrotums, "shcadules". That's ridiculous. It reminds me of Richard Pryor's live concert when he told that story about working for some Ohio gangstars and they mumbled made-up words.

Kansas City: This one looks bleak. They have one opening left and I think I got on the bus once all the seats were taken. But we'll see, I remain hopeful.

Austin: This remains one of my top choices and prospects. They made a select group of candidates critique their paper before bringing them in for interviews. I completed mine already and the editor says they're waiting on one more before making a decision on which ones to bring in. One thing I wonder is if I came off too black in my critique. That's a real concern for me. I mean, my bad, but I read papers from an African American's perspective and I'm sure that was apparent in my critique, whether it was evident in my story ideas or extra reporting I suggested or whatever. But Austin is not exactly Atlanta, so homeboy may be read my critique and think, "He's better off crusading for one of them there Negro journals." And I'm cool with that. If that's the way an editor thinks, then it's not in my best interest to work at that paper. I mean, I'm sure I didn't sound like a Black Israelite, but you know how mainstream media goes...especially newspapers...and especially newspapers in Texas. But, we'll see. I understand a dude has to assimilate to a certain extent, but my unique perspective is big part of who I am as a person and as a journalist. And, don't think for a second that this doesn't come into play in sports journalism, 'cause it does.

Minneapolis: This is the biggest paper I've applied to. The Star Tribune is one of the 15 largest papers in the country. Not as big as the Post, but bigger than Atlanta and twice the size of Orlando. When I say bigger, I mean in terms of circulation. The HR director called me less than a week after I applied, gave me suggestions on my resume before she sent it to the sports editor and had me complete a writing assignment that she said they only give to a select few candidates that they seriously consider. I assume competition for this one will be pretty tough, but all I want is an interview. I've never NOT gotten a job or internship that I've interviewed for...Obviously that streak will soon come to an end, but I mention only to say that I'm supremly confident that I leave interviews as a more attractive candidate than when I walk in, whereas others stumble, bumble and fumble their way out of contention. So I always feel like I have a good chance if I can get in front of the decision makers. We'll see how this goes.

Houston: A new paper is being created in Houston to compete with the Houston Chronicle. Today, the HR guy told me that they hope to have staff nailed down by June 15 and the first paper published by August 1. This is important for many reasons. First, despite all the latent problems that will come with an infant paper, I think it'd be exciting to work with a brand new paper. It's always special to have been apart of something since it's first days, to see the joint crawl, then walk, then hopefully run. Also, with this paper hiring a whole staff, there will undoubtedly be a good deal of openings at other papers, since some writers will be leaving their gigs to go work for this paper.

Ultimately, I don't plan on being jobless for long.