When I was in college, living with the one and only Amy Sass, I lived two doors down from a gas station/mini mart. This is where I would to buy cookies, dots, and sometimes Mike’s Hard Lemonade (Don’t judge! I was barely 21!). I walked everywhere and would pass this gas station maybe 3, 4, 5 times a day depending on how much I had to do. And every time I would go and wander around, decided which bag of cookies to get, I always saw the refrigerated sandwiches in their plastic cartons and the hot dogs rolling on the warmers, and giant pickles in individual plastic bags, swimming in their own pickle juice. And I always, always wondered – who bought these things? Who?
Then, I wrote a story in my advanced (ha!) fiction class where a man, distraught and angry at his wife’s untimely death that had now left him (alone) with a baby girl who looks FRUSTRATINGLY like her, he punches a cow in the face. This does nothing but hurt his hand. And while he is seeking out said cow, he stops for gas. And while in the mini mart, he runs across a giant pickle in a bag. The other students in the class commented on the pickle in a bag. The detail! Oh the detail! And they had seen that pickle in that bag before and wow, yes, they too did not know anyone who had eaten it.
Now then, remember when I told that story about breaking into Claire’s landlord’s house? And how I mentioned that Claire is totally awesome and went with me to Disneyland? After a horrible break up? Well yes, I did have a horrible breakup in 2007 and I needed something, anything, to look forward to, and of course Maris – the do-er of the world – found us a package deal to Disneyland and California Adventure on the cheap. So down we flew, right around Halloween, and did the Disney.
And what did we find all over Disney Land? In faux barrels? In carts? In every single Land? A pickle in a bag. And Churros. But that’s a different story. At first we scoffed at the pickle in a bag. I mean, really DisneyLand? This is the snack of choice? Not fruit by the foot or popcorn? But a Giant pickle? In individually wrapped bags? But then, by day two, their marketing began to call to us. They were every where. And so crisp and refreshing looking. How could they not be delicious? Claire finally bit… the bullet.
My first reaction was WHAT?! REALLY? The pickle in the bag? Granted, these were less “swimming in their own juices” looking than the gas station pickles. But really? We’re doing this now? This is a thing?
Oh yes. Claire ate the ENTIRE giant pickle, while I waited, laughing, and taking photos to later humiliate her with on the internet (hi claire!). Because the giant pickle had come full circle, and that was something I needed to document.
And then we went on splash mountain.
Oh yes. That’s me second from the front holding on for dear life…. and that’s Claire. 🙂