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Friday, September 30, 2005

Eat a pickle. Save a girl from a well.

Every Friday night my family had a tradition: we’d go to Wendy’s and then go home and watch the Dukes of Hazzard. That was back when Wendy’s had a salad bar. And Daisy Duke had a brain. Well, sort of.

I always got a kid’s meal and I would ask my parents to get me some pudding from the salad bar. My dad would say, “No, we can’t do that because it’s all-you-can-eat.” I didn’t understand that. If it was ‘all-you-can-eat’ why couldn’t I have pudding? I mean, they were always trying to get me to eat more. Why the pudding Nazi treatment?

My Wendy’s cheeseburger came with pickles on it and I would always take them off. Gross. I hated pickles. Still do. But one Friday in October 1987 we had more on our minds than pudding, pickles and even frosties. Baby Jessica had fallen down the well. She had been trapped since Wednesday morning—over 55 hours. That’s longer than Britney Spears was married to Jason Alexander.

So this time, instead of taking my pickles off my cheeseburger, I made a deal with God. I told him that I would eat ALL of my pickles (both of them) if he would just let baby Jessica out of the well. It was gross. It was disgusting. It was my ultimate sacrifice.

That night when we got home the Dukes of Hazzard had been interrupted with a special report. At first I was peeved (back then we were peeved rather than pissed). But then I saw the headline. Baby Jessica had been rescued! I wasn’t sure why she looked like a mummy but who cared? I had done this--with the help of Dave Thomas’ pickles, of course.

I encourage everyone to eat pickles in times of crisis. But there are a few rules:

1. You have to not like pickles. If you do like them, you have to choose something else.

2. It has to be a really big problem. I’ve tried to eat them to get a boy to like me, to get an A on a test without studying and to get rid of a killer hang nail. No success.

3. Once you’ve eaten your pickles (or other enemy food), you can’t celebrate until the crisis is over.

And whatever you do, don't ask for pudding from the all-you-can-eat buffet.

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