My friend Kara from grad school once dated a guy whose name I’ve forgotten. That’s right, I don’t actually remember his name. (Devin? Aaron? ARG!) Heck, I don’t even remember what he looks like. But this guy will forever live in my memory because he was cute and, conveniently, he was a personal trainer.
Yes, a personal trainer, isn’t that convenient? It’s like having a friend who is married to a dermatologist. Wouldn’t that be sweet? But I digress.
Seriously though, when you’re in grad school in a small town, and you’re so miserable your only joy in life is a Wendy’s Frosty or a DQ Blizzard, you REALLY want a personal trainer around.
But, like so many others, Kara was a better (and certainly stronger) person then I am. She happily dated Aaron (Darren?). For two solid months.
And then one day it was over. Kara stomped into the library reading room, fire in her eyes and snaps “I dumped him. Asshole!”
It was the week before finals and I would have thought that Kara would hang in there for the um…cardio. Plus I mentioned he was cute right? But I try to be a good friend so I went there
“What! What happened?”
Kara pulls out a smooshed bag of bread out from behind her back. It was one of those 87 grain breads at least 12 of which will probably break your teeth if you bite down incorrectly.
“See this!” she snaps.
I did. I love all things Carb-related.
“I decided to make myself an effing piece of toast and Darren walks in!”
She is clearly furious about this so I remain silent.
“The minute he sees the loaf he says, ‘you know what bread is, right?’ and I’m such an idiot I thought he meant the kind of bread. So I said, ‘what?’
“And he says, ‘it’s ass, bread is ass’ and then he grabbed my butt.”
I winced.
Apparently Darren was one of those really obnoxious clueless shitheads who has no idea how academic stress manifests itself.
He also clearly has no concept of female rage.
The good news is he was such a workout junkie when Kara in a sudden haze of Carb-loving fury attacked his family jewels Darren was safe. He was wearing a jock.
I like to think that he might have realized his strategic error in that moment.
But Kara was completely beyond logic and just a little scary. She took the jock as a personal affront and apparently karate chopped him with her second degree blackbelt skills knocking him on his ass.
Or perhaps he realized his error in that moment?
We never did find out.
Moral of the story? Never ask a grad student to choose between a man and a loaf of bread.
I should also add, in case you are all deeply afraid of Kara (which is wise) that she turned the “ass” comment into a running joke, one we use to this day.
Whenever I see a food that seems tasty but is clearly not in my posterior region’s best interest I always say “You know what that is, right?” and inevitably the person who is with me (provided they know the story) will say “Ass.”
This week’s illustration? Dad’s luncheon offering for Sunday when he came over to my place.
You know what that is right?
Yup, I had eggwhites.
Because it turns out that I also love eggwhites.