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Santa Maria Sun / Humor

The following article was posted on November 9th, 2010, in the Santa Maria Sun - Volume 11, Issue 35 [ Submit a Story ]
The following articles were printed from Santa Maria Sun [santamariasun.com] - Volume 11, Issue 35

Krider's a pansy

Some men are just tougher than others

By ROB KRIDER

There is this guy I work with I would consider “a man’s man.” He’s big, he’s tough, he smells, he has no fashion sense whatsoever, and he carries a knife with him at all times. There isn’t a hint of metrosexualism within 50 yards of this guy. His arms are as big as my legs, he has an atrocious diet of nearly raw meat, and, chances are, he could have a heart attack at any given moment. He is the kind of guy you would want on your side in a bar fight—mostly because he is so big, chances are nobody would actually fight the guy. You could stand next to this guy in Oakland and yell “The Raiders suck!” and nobody would argue. Like I said, this guy is a man’s man.

I mentioned he carries his knife 24/7. His knife is a multi-tool of sorts. It isn’t an actual Leatherman multi-tool device; his knife really only has one function, and that is being a knife with a single rusty blade. Regardless of its simplistic design, however, my co-worker uses it as a self invented multi-tool. One day it could be a letter opener or a screwdriver, the next day a blister popper or a fish gutter, and the following day he’ll use it to cut some cheddar for some cheese and crackers. No, he’s never washed this thing. You need a Tetanus shot just for looking at the knife.

A few months ago, my wife, whom I love, made me one of my favorite snacks in the whole world: spinach dip served in a bread bowl (so good!). She sent me to work with a freshly made spinach dip bread bowl for lunch. I was in a hurry that day, skipped breakfast, worked hard all morning, and by lunchtime I was starving. All I could think about was diving into that bread bowl. I was sitting at my desk, just about to begin eating, when my manly-man co-worker busted through the door. He saw my snack and his eyes lit up.

“Spinach dip! I love spinach dip.”

Then it happened. He reached into the pocket of his dirty Levi’s, pulled out that disgusting rusty knife (the same knife I saw him clean under his fingernails with), opened it up, and then carved himself an enormous chunk out of my precious spinach dip bowl. He took a bite of bread covered in spinach dip and proclaimed, “Hmmm, that’s delicious.” Then he took that half eaten piece of bread and double dipped it into the rest of my spinach dip. I couldn’t believe it.

My stomach was growling, but my lunch had been totally ruined.

“You like spinach dip?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm that went completely unnoticed.

“Oh, yeah!”

“It’s your lucky day. You can have it,” I said as I disgustedly pushed the bowl away from me.

   “Thanks!” he proclaimed, oblivious to my unhappiness.

   He scooped up my bowl, the only item I had with me for lunch that day, and walked away with it as happy as a clam.

“I’m just going to go to Taco Bell and get myself some processed food for lunch,” I said. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

“Goodbye,” he said, open-mouthed, with a glob of my wife’s homemade spinach dip on his tongue.

I couldn’t blame the guy—spinach dip is great stuff. He had no idea I was one of those freaked out germ-a-phobes who doesn’t like dirty rusty knives in my food or people double dipping their saliva into my spinach dip. He was just a manly man, and I was being a pansy. Therefore I tried not to hold it against him and never ate near him again.

Working with this guy, I realized manly men are not only smelly and huge, they are also quite frugal. A few weeks after the incident that will go down in history as the “Spinach Dip Coup of 2010,” my manly co-worker and I were on a road trip together in his truck (yes, of course he drives a truck). It was hot outside, and we had been working pretty hard that day. I told him to pull over, and that I would buy us a couple of sodas.

“Great,” he said, and then he began to dig around behind his driver’s seat while driving 80 miles an hour. After some searching, he pulled out a very dirty Big Gulp cup circa 1985. It was difficult to tell, because the print on the cup was faded and scratched from decades of use, but it may have been a Back to the Future promotional cup from 7-11. I’m talking about Back to the Future 1, not 2 or 3. This thing was ancient and didn’t appear to have been washed, ever.

“You get free re-fills with this thing,” he said as we pulled up to a stop-n-rob that was not a 7-11. Then he dug underneath the center of the truck’s seat and pulled out his cup’s long lost cousin. “You can use this one if you want.”

“Uh, no thanks. Like I said, it’s my treat. I’m more than willing to pick up the cost for two fountain drinks. I’ll even splurge and pay for the cups.”

“Suit yourself,” he said and then took his dirty cup in anyway.

I grabbed a drink while he re-filled his cup. I went to the cashier and said, “I’ll take this and whatever you want to charge me for what my friend over there is doing.”

I paid for the two drinks and we left. He walked out of the place happy as a clam, sucking down 44 ounces of Pepsi mixed with whatever was growing in his cup at the time. I was thirsty, but I could hardly enjoy my drink just thinking about his. Again, I guess I was just being a pansy.

Rob Krider would like to take this opportunity to say congratulations to Marvin Sprinkman, the toughest man he’s ever met, for retiring. As a retirement gift, Rob bought Marv a brand new “clean” re-fillable cup.




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