Why I didn’t get the Häagen-Dazs
A large portion of my Easter Sunday was spent on the couch watching “The Ten Commandments,” which is the norm, but I was feeling rather listless, with one eye swollen from allergies, as if hadn’t wanted to be mowed or sidewalks blown.
The next day I did something unfortunately rare: Left work early, feeling poorly.
On the way home in my depleted state, I was sure I needed something healthy to cook and eat and restore my vigor. Beef – no, liver – would be my salvation. And an onion, like at Luby’s. No matter that I’ve attempted to cook this just once in all my years. Maybe it was chicken liver at that. I didn’t know what I would be doing, but I knew I’d have to cook it myself and that no one else would want a part of this healing measure.
So I ventured into the grocer and found kidney and chicken liver, but no calf liver. I was just about to ask a woman in the butcher department, but I could see that a shopper had pulled her over for a close conversation. I could hear some of it, but it could not make out the words. As I waited patiently, feeling so cold and undernourished, I figured it out. The shopper was speaking in tongues and had a hold of the butcher woman!
All I could think of was, she’s speaking in tongues, and I’ll bet there’s tongue for sale on these shelves, but I can’t find the liver.
In short order, the liver was delivered to my cart, I loaded up an onion and headed to the ice cream aisle.
Sure, some ice cream always heals the sick, and I’d had my heart set on a wee carton of Häagen-Dazs coffee ice cream since my friend mentioned literally months ago that she considered herself an “ice cream snob” and preferred that brand or none at all.
So there I was, when I spotted the Magnum. You’ve seen the commercials of the pretty girl bounding over cars in a traffic jam to get to these bars. The sound effect of her teeth popping through the chocolate coating is what sells it for me. I’d never had one and so this seemed like the time.
As I was loading up the car, thinking how I was just blocks away from a hot shower and my bed, my puffy eye caught the box of ice cream bars and I thought, why wait? I got a bar, thought it reckless to eat it while driving, and proceeded to walk around the parking lot for a bit with the delicious ice cream.
Wow, I thought, so nice to be able to go home, but wouldn’t it be weird if someone saw me walking around eating ice cream when I’m supposed to be sick. At that moment, someone calls my name.
So there’s an old college friend headed into the store, who says he’s fetching chocolate to cheer his wife, as they were rear-ended in the car this weekend. He’s showing me photos on the phone of this unfortunate situation and I’m truly touched, yet have to keep licking the dripping ice cream bar in the middle of the exchange. This seems frivolous at the least.
Soon I was down to the stick, made it home, napped and got down to the liver. Nothing to it. I was feeling better with each bite when I heard on the stove that my next nourishing meal, a pot of yellow lentils, was about to boil over. I tended to that and returned to the plate of liver, then heard from the stove that the pot of lentils and decided to boil over anyway. I cleaned up a goopy yellow mess and decided the rest of the liver would be fine for later in the day.
So now there’s one more Magnum bar in the freezer for me and I’m thinking I got the almond. I still haven’t tried the original flavor that looks so good on TV. Oh, and I still have that Häagen-Dazs on my wish firstname.lastname@example.org