Viagra and matzos

He always says, “You talk too much and you never listen.”

I wish I had a mike when his chin begins to wobble

He’s always telling me what to write.  He’s interfering with my creative process. After we have a chat on the phone, he has to take a nap and I have to have a glass of wine. The only reason we get along is ’cause I love his blog, I belong there. And I dearly love his dog-who I will adopt and bring home to live with me and Boots and Ari and Duke and the cats when he gets run over by a cane truck.

The last kerfuffle took place after I told him I shared a matzoh cracker with cream cheese with Monroe and Esther. They made me an honorary Jewess for the day. Well, that’s better than getting my ass dunked in the Mormon baby boiler or a freezing lake or river in a stupid backwoods berg in Tennessee.

“Matzo is an unleavened bread us Jews eat during passover. It’s bread that doesn’t rise. I want you to write a column about Viagra and Matzo balls.”

“What?”

“Just do it and have it on my desk before deadline tomorrow.”

“Or…”

“…or you’re fired.”

“Yeah? Well I quit.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?’

“”cause I said so.”

What do you do with a mind like that? I don’t know anything about Viagra. I started talking and he started talking over me and we slammed the phone in each other’s ear after about ten minutes. He fell asleep with the phone up his nose at his desk. Served him right. I had a cold glass of Chardonnay with crackers and cheese for brunch. Boots shared. I made some special unleavened crackers in my electric oven. A speciality of the house which I discovered serendipitously while making a delicious frittata. Some of the batter spilled into the bottom of the pan and- lo and behold- when the frittata was done some darling perfectly round brown and crisp little  crackers were born. They smelled good in the baking. You eat them like macadamia nuts, with dainty fingers, one at a time.

I’ll share the recipe. Beat the hell out of two eggs dashed with salt and pepper and nutmeg and oregano and some Parmesan cheese. Drop by the  teaspoonful in the bottom of the pan. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes at 250 degrees. Or something like that. Experiment . Boots and I love them.  I don’t know if they qualify as certified matzos. Mine never taste the same twice.

But I digress.

Uh, I didn’t add any Viagra. I don’t know, maybe you could do that. It might liven up a dull party. Make sure you have clean sheets on the bed. My mother taught me, “When your boy friend comes calling make sure the sheets are clean.”

My mother was a very liberal feminist. I always took her advice.

Dear Editor, let me know if this qualifies.

Editors! Can’t live with ’em. Can’t shoot’em.

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One Response

  1. very funny!

    Like

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