Onion and garlic flavored chewing gum
Dear Bill,
I got your package in the mail last week. And I must say, I wasn’t surprised. After the artichoke flavored chewing gum in
August, the olive flavored gum in November, and the oyster flavored gum in
January, it was no shock to me that you would send me onion and garlic flavored
chewing gum this Valentine’s Day. By the
way, thanks for the note mentioning our little kiss in the movie theater
sophomore year…I have fond memories of that evening…it adds an air of
excitement to our lifelong friendship.
So, anyway, since you got your job at Trident, you’ve really
done some amazing thing. Your creativity,
your willingness to take risks, your “fuck you all” nature, that’s really
benefited you. You even won “employee of
the month” after that awesome presentation on why kids will surely buy steak
flavored gum! Each time I get a new idea
of yours in the mail, I open the package with such ferocity…you wouldn’t
believe it, Bill, I’m like a dog in heat, begging each stick to bang me and
explode its flavor into me, opening up my inner taste buds and filling me with its
zest.
As I write this, I’m gnawing on a piece of garlic flavored
gum. I must say, it’s completely out of
this world. Last week, I set the garlic
aside, and tore into the onion. As I
chewed that first piece, I had no time to relish in its originality, since I suddenly
remembered I had a meeting with a coworker at Teresa’s Café downtown. I grabbed my coat (even though it was 60
degrees out - the onion fumes must have gotten to me), and bolted out the door. On the crowded subway (oh, rush hour, how I loathe
thee), I attempted conversation with a hottie in a Hilfiger suit. He was holding on to the bar next to mine, yet
he made a face of agony (like nothing I’d ever seen, I swear), and turned
away. What was the problem? Was my makeup smeared? Did I have a stain on my blouse (I mean, in a
$400 silk Versace blouse, what does a little stain matter?). I recovered my poise though, and although my
ego was hurt, I stood with confidence the rest of the subway ride, pretending
to have important things on my mind.
Once at my stop, I briskly walked out of the subway and up
the stairs to the street. I entered the
café just on time (lucky me!), and met my colleague at the table. He was sitting there sipping a ginger ale (or
was it a vodka tonic? Was it THAT kind
of meeting?). I held out my hand and
gave him a firm handshake (a woman must make her confidence known at all
times), greeted him, and jumped right into business (with the possibility of
ordering a Merlot lingering in the back of my mind).
About fifteen minute into the meeting, my coworker, Joey,
excused himself. I saw him head toward
the bathroom. A few minute later, I saw
him exit the bathroom, and head straight for the door. And Bill, you know what? He walked straight out the door. I had never witnessed such shocking,
unprofessional behavior in my life. I
sat by myself at the table, chewing the nearly flavorless onion gum. After about a half hour, I asked for the
check (thanks for leaving your share, Joey!) and solemnly walked out of the
restaurant.
What had just happened?
How would I explain this to my boss?
How would I finish my report for Monday?
I needed some key figures from that bastard Joey!
Luckily though, none of that mattered. As I walked down the street I felt my tongue
begin to swell, and my mouth begin to heat up.
I felt my tongue crowding into my teeth, growing larger by the
moment. My mouth felt like a fire ball,
and breathing was starting to become difficult.
The last thing I remember is seeing an old lady walking past me with
barking miniature poodle in her arms. I
tried to grab out to her, but I honestly don’t remember if I reached her.
The next morning, I awoke in the hospital. There were flowers all around me, an IV in my
left hand, and I was dressed in one of those ugly hospital gowns you see on
TV. I turned to my left and saw
Joey. His had an expression of intense
guilt on his face. “I never should have
left you; this never would have happened if I hadn’t snuck out like that,” he
said. “Why did you sneak out of the
restaurant, Joey?” I uttered sleepily. “Well,
frankly, your breath fucking stunk,” he said. I thought about Joey’s words, and
shrugged my shoulders. It felt wrong to
feel offended over silly words in the hospital, when I should be thankful I
wasn’t dead and all. “What happened to
me?” I asked Joey. “You had an allergic
reaction to something, and you passed out in the street,” he said sadly. How odd, I thought to myself. All I’d eaten that day was an apple (red
delicious, my favorite!) and I popped in a piece of your new onion gum, Bill,
to ebb my hunger a bit before dinner. “Stranger
things have happened,” I thought to myself.
Well, Bill, I’m just going on and on here. What I really wanted to tell you is that Joey
and I just got engaged! After his visit
at the hospital, we started to chat online, and realized just how much we have
in common. I know it’s quick, but when
it’s true love, it’s true love, what can I say.
I don’t know why, but I feel like you’re somehow connected to this
relationship, in a weird way. Maybe
because you were my first crush in high school (as if you didn’t know!). I don’t know, whatever it is, I felt the need
to write you a special letter, to thank you for the gum (Trident is lucky to
have an employee like you!) and to let you be the first to know about me and
Joey (I plan on waiting exactly 72 more hours before posting it on
Facebook). So, Bill, I hope to see you
at the wedding. You can pass out some of
your gum samples if you’d like!
Love,
Sally
Have you heard of curry flavoured gum?
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