Breakfast of Champions
Far be it from me to judge someone else’s habits… but since you probably know me by now, you know I am going to do it anyhow.
My co-worker and friend Scooter has this thing he likes to call “The Process.”* Every morning he buys an English Muffin at our cafeteria and toasts it. (That’s not the weird part… keep reading.) While it is toasting, he takes three—not one, not two, but three!—pats of foil-wrapped butter and holds them between his palms to warm them. (still not the weird part… keep going).
Half-way through the toasting process, he pops the muffin up and rotates it 180 degrees to ensure it is properly toasted on both top and bottom. Everything he does with this process is specific and timed. God help you if you slow him down… (Yeah, yeah, ‘strange’ but not really weird. I’m telling you, keep reading).
Once his muffin has been properly toasted (which, much to my chagrin is not a euphemism for anything), he puts the muffin on a paper plate and tops it with another paper plate (to “seal in” the warmth) and then tops that with the pats of butter (to further soften the butter). Again, all significant and integral parts of “The Process.” (And yes, still odd, and even a bit strange… but it gets weirder).
We are now at a time-critical juncture as Scooter must get back to his office so that his muffin is still warm, where he can put on the 1 ½ pats of butter per slice and eat while it is still at “prime temperature.”
This morning, L-Man ran into a problem with his breakfast and had to walk over to the cashier. Scooter left us to rush his English muffin back to his office. Scooters reason being the time it took L-Man to return the (not vegetarian)vegetarian burrito**—less than two minutes—“The Process” would be interrupted. (That’s it! That’s where it zoomed into freaky-weird country! You leave your friends because you have to ‘rush’ your English muffin back to your office? Dude, that’s just freaky fucking bizarre--we're talking about a flimsy English muffin! A danish? I might understand. An actual muffin? Maybe. But you have got to get those little nooks and crannies back to your office? Totally fucking bizarre).
Contrast that to me: I stop by the “El Crapito” toaster oven in the break room on my way to the shower in the morning and toss in my English muffin for about 10 minutes. The oven sucks, so it is always a crap-shoot as to whether my muffin will come out slightly toasted or burned beyond recognition. Frankly, I like the burned bits—they are little bits of heaven if you ask me***—so I can deal with whatever L’il Toaster Oven From Hell gives me.
When I come by for it on my way back to my office I can tell by the smoke content in the air just how burnt my English muffin is. For me, the critical point in my “process” is whether or not to dunk. Actually, that is answered by the toaster oven: if said muffin is burnt to a crisp, I need to dunk; otherwise I don’t. Sometimes I reverse that just to keep myself alert.
I guess we all have our odd morning processes, so I really should not judge someone else’s process as weird. Then again, some processes are just bat-shit insane and I have got to say something.
And don't even get me started on what he does with Australian Toaster Biscuits...
* I like to call it “weird.”
** aka: Vegetarian Burrito with ham! Did I mention the caterers in our cafeteria are the worst? They are.
*** You didn’t but I’m telling you anyhow.
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