Last night, I attended a dinner party hosted by my old high school buddy, Lawrence, and his wife, Mel. We were enjoying a nice take-out meal from a nearby restaurant. Halfway through supper, Lawrence, seated beside me, suddenly pulled something out of his mouth and uttered a shocked: “What is THIS?!”. A hush fell over the room. As he presented his pink, plastic, gummy find, Sinead, one of the other dinner guests seated across from him suggested: “It’s a shrimp shell.” But no. I knew instantly – it wasn’t a shrimp shell. “It’s a band-aid!”confirmed Lawrence.
“No, it’s a shrimp shell,”insisted Sinead, not wanting to believe.
“It’s a band-aid,”repeated Lawrence, holding it up for all to see.
There was not doubt. It WAS a band-aid. Sinead stared back, mortified.
“It was in the noodles,”said Lawrence. Then, throwing a look to my plate. “Did you finish them?”
I glanced down at my now empty plate, feeling the heat rise to my face as I weighed whether I should induce vomiting – or just wait for it to come naturally.
Horrified silence – and then Lawrence, no longer able to suppress himself, broke out into a wide grin.
IT WAS AS PRACTICAL JOKE!
The psychopath had gone through all the trouble of opening up a fresh band-aid, setting it aside for some twenty minutes and then, popping it in his mouth when I wasn’t looking. In retrospect, I suppose I should have been suspicious. What kind of idiot proceeds to suck the black bean sauce off some mystery object he just pulled out of his mouth so that everyone at the table could get a clearer look. More alarming than the initial discovery of the band-aid was, perhaps, the reaction of Sinead’s husband, Gabi, who seemed not at all bothered by the horrific find – despite not being in on the joke – continuing to eat his noodles as the conversation played out on the other side of the table.
Dessert was very had to fuck with chocolate covered almonds.
This morning, I set Lawrence the following text:
Good times indeed!