Last night for dinner Mr. Snooty & I had planned to dine on a light meal, since we'd had a rather large lunch. I'd had 4 small artichokes in the fridge for days, so I decided we'd better include them or it might be too late if we waited. Good. Fine. I also decided that we'd have pasta with the chokes, which sounded like the perfect pairing. Good. Fine. Again.
You can click on the picture to see a larger version.
You can click on the picture to see a larger version.
I was halfway through my meal before I realized what I'd done. Does anyone else notice this little *faux pas* or am I the only one who feels that this is completely off the scale of feeble minded thinking? Look at the picture very carefully. Yes, I had opened a large can of artichoke hearts, which I chopped up & added to the pasta & mushrooms. You know, to go with our steamed Artichokes Jerusalem. *Sigh.*
I immediately started laughing at myself for this ridiculous mistake, wondering why Mr. Snooty had not said anything. I suppose he knows me better than I realized, after almost 31 years of marriage, and he decided against bringing this up. He's such a wise man. I do wish he could be that quiet when we play golf. Anyway, the whole thing triggered a memory in my mind, so I'm going to run with it. Try to keep up.
I've been guilty of this sort of thinking before and I wasn't even old then. We were all Thirty Something (think early 1990's here) at the time and had been invited to a friend's home for a Lasagna Dinner and each couple had been asked, by our hostess, to bring a side dish. She had invited us a week earlier to insure that everyone could attend. Brainiac that I am, I worked all day on a lovely Pasta Primavera. Uh-Huh. As a side dish to Lasagna. Uh-Huh.
When we arrived, the hostess (whom I never did care much for) said to me "What the hell were you thinking?" I quickly apologized but as the other couples arrived, our hostess would immediately tell everyone what I'd brought and proceeded to make a Huge Deal out of it. It was humiliating the way she was referring to me as a complete basket case, a nut cake, and so on. Yes, I was actually bothered about other's opinions of me back then. Thank God that ship sailed.
It was Summer and it was as hot as the Devil himself, and I sat there thinking "So, Mrs. Bitch, why would you make & serve lasagna on one of the hottest days of the Summer? Served outside on your patio? In the heat?" When I excused myself to take my dishes in to the kitchen, she was still going on about it. She should have been keeping her eyes on me. I looked over at her lovely knives in their wooden stand, contemplating using the rather large one to either cut out her tongue or slice her throat, but decided I wouldn't like prison. However, I would have been doing her hubby a huge favor. Or perhaps he likes being emotionally beaten up. He must like it because they're still married.
So, I turned around and went over to their garbage container, which was enclosed in a lower cabinet, to throw away my napkin (I would also never serve dinner with lousy paper napkins) when I spotted a large Stouffer's Lasagna container & box in her garbage. That Bitch. She had bought her *homemade* lasagna at Sam's Club, then proceeded to pass it off as her own, then berate & belittle me for bringing Pasta Primavera that I made from scratch. Even the pasta.
Her biggest mistake of the day was not having the
sneakiness foresight to take the packaging to the alley & place them in the trash bin. At least I'm not that stoooopid. And, yes, I am that sneaky, although I would never serve something from the frozen section at Sam's to my dinner guests. That privilege is reserved strictly for family.
So, being another type of bitch than she, I returned to the table with a smile on my face, having decided that if she said one more word about my dish, I was going to let the cat out of the proverbial bag. Of course, I knew she wouldn't be able to help herself. I knew it was going to happen and I laid in wait like some sort of predator, planning how nicely I was going to reveal her secret, as I stuck the invisible knife in her flat tummy & twisted it. Hehehehehe.....
I knew she wouldn't fail me and she did not. A bitch can always be counted on to open her mean mouth, which I already knew. Especially this one. She had the entire table of couples' attention when she made her fatal mistake. She opened her mouth about my dish one last time and I launched my verbal rocket... headed straight for her. Heads Up!
I spoke not too softly, nor too loudly as I very sweetly said "Well, at least I didn't buy it at Sam's and then pass it off as my own." All heads turned in her direction with mouths popping open & jaws dropping, sounding almost like a musical background for my rocket launch. Victory! All the compliments on her lasagna flew straight out the window at that point, followed by all of the mean remarks she'd made to me & about me that night. I couldn't even begin to tell you how perfectly sweet it was. Each wife had worked hard on their contribution to this woman's meal, so I'm fairly certain there were more pissed off people than just I.
Unlike her, I am not the type to go on about the ordeal all night. I just smiled the rest of the night. Contentment achieved. I still cannot understand why we never were invited to dinner again. Yeah, right. We never again did anything together either, which was such a shame. Not. And, guess what? She's still a mean bitch to this day, but not to me. Hehehe... I'm sure someone else has that dubious honor now, but it certainly isn't Moi!
We used to have them visit at the lake house every summer, for a week, with another couple & she was always a skinny bitch, which accounts for strike one.
She never even made their beds. Strike Two.
She also never pitched in to help with the work, nor brought an ounce of food. Yes, the guest from Hell. Strike Three... So, in honor of such a wonderful guest, I'm posting pictures for everyone's perusal. She's the one on the right trying to pee off the back of the boat. Hehehehe...