Monday, December 18, 2017

Bacon in library

I made some bacon in the library break room. My co-workers cursed my name.

"It smells so goooood!" They said.

"So you like it?"

"No. We curse your name."

It's good bacon, made from humanely raised, happy, and naturally fed pigs who are then murdered against their will.

"You don't mind that we're going to murder you, do you?"

"Yes. I do. I really do." Pigs can't talk, but they can easily think that. 

Oh but smell that bacon! When I cooked it it was slow to spread it's aroma. This is a big place I work in! But I cooked the bacon slowly and carefully. I pulled it crispy from its own fat. I put the sizzling bacon in a sandwich of cranberry walnut bread spread with avocado oil mayonnaise (appealingly and disconcertingly greenish), sweet 100 tomatoes, and a lemony sauteed chard.

I hope you're not mad at me too.

I ate the sandwiches. I drank water. I wrote some e-mails. I talked to some co-workers who all mentioned bacon a lot. I left them discussing bacon among themselves. I went down a 75 foot long hallway to an elevator, took the elevator upstairs into the public areas. I wheeled a cart hundreds of feet past the reference desk into non fiction, and I started shelving. Then I realized I smelled bacon. Oh bacon. 

I heard the snatch of a patron saying something. "Bacon." He said. 

Someone else up there said "Bacon (something, something, something) bacon." Everyone looked hungry. Everyone said "Bacon."

But I wasn't hungry anymore. I'd had bacon.


  1. Really?! Your eating bacon? Isn't the world surreal enough? Aren't your ancestors tormenting your dreams like in that scene in "Fiddler Awn Da' Roof" for this?
    Gawd kid, I'd be as scared as a Pagan at a Cat-lick barbecue, me.

    1. You know what a civil, and well-behaved sort of person I am, so I do not say this lightly, but... My ancestors can go fuck themselves.


      And with love.

      What on earth is a Cat-lick barbecue--- oh, is it Catholic? Your patois is getting so thick there!

      And I know you're having fun, but, can I just say: Hey! You wouldn't be at all scared if you were a Pagan at a Cat-lick barbecue, which, for all I know, you have been!!!!!!

  2. Maybe I'm just sentimentalizing the dietary taboos of someone else's exotic culture? It's just that, well, you were the one who explained to me the ethical basis for the separation of meat and dairy. It made sense. Over my many years I've met numerous Jewish people who are vegetarian out of what seems to me to be a logical extension of this ethical examination.
    Ye gods! How can you say such things about your ancestors?! Don't you know their all waiting for you? I hope you've been feeding them at Samhain.

    1. Oh my god, I feed them great at Samhain. That's why they let me make fun of them.

      Now I'm scared of ghosts!

      I don't know, there's ethics everywhere and thousands year old dietary law doesn't seem super important to me in coming up with a modern conviction of vegetarianism or veganism, but whatever works for these Sears shoppers is okay with me.

      Happy Solstice to you too! It's actually light out here for a brief, nope, its over. Darkness again, and I think I heard a Polar Bear.


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