Thursday, October 6, 2011

Thanks, Chode.

Do you see the space between the label
and the salsa? Thanks, Chode.
Yesterday, I impulse-purchased some delicious Tostitos Queso with the intent of eating some with some chips I bought a few days prior throughout the rest of the week. When I walked into my dorm soon after the purchase, Chode-face asked, "Oh, did you buy food?" with a hint of excitement in her voice. Of course my immediate response was a yes, and I didn't think anything of it. Fast forward to this afternoon. Chode suddenly worked up the courage (and had the nerve) to ask me if she could have some of my queso. Since she asked semi-politely, and I was feeling unusually nice, I told her sure. About half an hour after that, Chode was still eating my queso, and I had to go to a meeting. I left Choderella and the queso by themselves. I came back half an hour later, and Chode greeted me with, "your class is already over?" as she chewed a mouthful of my chips while crumbs and saliva simultaneously spewed from the corners or her nasty Chode mouth. I replied, "I told you I had a meeting. Did you leave me some queso?" She responded with a yes and I left it at that. She closed the jar (I'm now assuming so I couldn't see how much was left) and put it in our mini-fridge. She left to go to her class right after that and I casually drifted over to the fridge, because I really wanted that queso. It shouldn't have surprised me that the jar of queso Hodey put back in the fridge was empty. Well, let me be accurate: it wasn't completely empty; I had enough queso to put on one tiny, broken chip, which was the biggest chip I could find in the bag. Thanks for leaving me a microscopic amount of queso. 
Thank you for leaving 1/4" amount of salsa. And thank you for leaving me broken chips. YOU'RE SO DAMN KIND, CHODEY.
Thank you so much for taking the only three things I love away from me.

No comments:

Post a Comment