filed in Foodstuff, Sex and Dating
When Not to Buy Generic
My dog, Rose just waltzed in to find her usual napping spot under the desk. Rose is generic, some kind of poodle-bichon mutt, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. But sometimes, brand makes a difference. Like this one time, a few reckless years ago, with a guy I met online.
He worked at a local TV station, and our meet and greet date was at a cheery park near my office. What I noticed first was the moustache, which looked dated, but okay, he was enthusiastic, and I liked that. We agreed on dinner the next night, and the night after that, I phoned him at 10 PM, with sultry confidence, and asked for directions to his house.
His neighborhood was unfamiliar, on the outskirts of town, and as I was navigating my way, I suddenly realized the risk. (So kids, don’t try this one at home.) Here I was driving to an unlit suburb across the bridge, to a virtual stranger’s house, for a booty call. I didn’t tell any of my friends where I was going in advance, for fear of being talked out of it. But that meant no search party could find me, if I didn’t show up for work the next morning. After a few missed turns, I found his house, and walked up the uneven path.
He had an 8-year old daughter, who was with his ex that night, but her toys were strewn everywhere. His place was a wreck, with dust balls the size of oranges, clinging to the baseboards underneath the couch. (It’s not that I was snooping, but we ended up splayed out on the carpet, which gave me a birds-eye view of the mess.) I was in a sex fog, so though the shabbiness of the surroundings slightly registered in my psyche, I didn’t let it settle. I didn’t want anything to take away from the giddiness of the moment. He was a superb lover (whose high rank has stood the test of time), and I was willing to dismiss a little dirt. We could always hire a housecleaner.
After a few go-rounds on the rug, the couch and finally the bed, we took a break for some chow. It was too late for take-out, so we were stuck with leftovers. That’s when it started to come apart.
His refrigerator was barren, except for the requisite condiments, and a half-filled box of Round Table Pizza, which we heated up in the microwave. There was no booze around (he was 7 years sober) so we cracked open a bottle of soda. Not Coke exactly, or Pepsi, or R.C. Cola, but a jumbo plastic container of Safeway generic brand. Now I could try to be a sport about the moustache, the blown-dry hair, his uncool clothes. I could handle his tiny residence in a tacky suburb, 45 minutes from civilization. I was willing to look the other way, when it came to scratchy sheets and a level of squalor in the bathroom that I don’t care to relive. But bad chain-restaurant pizza and generic soda, was more than I could bear.
Image: 64 Crayons Made in the USA, 2009, by Yu-Cheng Chou
Discussion
One comment for “When Not to Buy Generic”
Leave a Reply
About this Site
FIRST PERSON SINGULAR is a guide to surviving, thriving and sometimes just getting through a single day. Created by Wendy Braitman (more…)
Follow First Person Singular
Greatest Hits
I snorted-out-loud while reading this. This is exactly the kind of thing that gets us labeled as “too picky.” That being said, I’m with you…. this is exactly the kind of thing that constitutes a deal breaker. Also, I’ve been known to call my friends late at night during a moment of clarity to advise them via voicemail of my injudicious activities and let them know where to look for the body.