I have made no secret of the fact I don't like creamy white condiments. Sour cream, mayonnaise, cream cheese, cottage cheese, ranch dressing... The list goes on, but I expect you get the point. I get teased about this, and people can be almost as dense about it as when asking stupid adoption questions. Someone recently gasped at the sight of me enjoying pie topped with whipped cream. Get real. Whipped cream is a topping, not a condiment. This kind of ignorance is disappointing, but not unexpected, given today's short attention spans. And last week's incident involving my sister, a shared plate of fajitas and a gob of sour cream was, at best, a display of inconsideration, yet can be forgiven. I see her maybe twice a year. If there are no others in her life who abhor creamy white condiments, I don't expect her to remember to accommodate my quirks, by, say, moving the fajitas she wants onto her plate first and then drenching them in appetite killing goo.
Still, someone out there is trying to kill me. In today's post (not this post, the US Post - at the post box) was a small sample of mayonnaise. While mayonnaise, in its intended form, will not kill me (I have ingested it), heated to well over 100 degrees, as anything left in the South Florida sun will be, it can do damage. The implications are obvious. But so, too, is the ineptitude of the attempted assassin.
Mayonnaise, in any form, is not going in this body. Please try again. And do be more clever next time.
I'm headed to Peru tonight. I must be cautious. Strange foods abound, although they do make good butter - a spread, not a condiment.