January 14, 2011

TRDC - Pantry Raid

The Assingment:
What's in your pantry?

No. Really. What's in there?

For this week's prompt, grab something out of your pantry and write a short piece - using all the words in the ingredients. It can be fiction or non-fiction, poetry or prose.

No fair choosing a bottle of Aquafina or a potato.

The Result:
Tara was really nervous about her date on Saturday night. She had so much to do to get ready. In the middle of winter she was as pale as it got. She was Casper, snow, enriched bleached flour. Should she get a spray tan? Could she pull it off? Ummm, no. She really should just accept that she would never be tan, naturally or otherwise.

She also needed to get her eyebrows done, get some new lip gloss and figure out what to wear. More importantly, she needed to stop obsessing about who her date was. It was, dare she admit it, a blind date. Beyond that, all that she knew was that he was outdoorsy, over 6 feet tall, employed, never married, no kids and southern. If the rest was true, she could forgive the southern part.

He was late. Strike one. Tara had been sitting at the restaurant for 15 minutes already, nervously devouring bread sticks. She knew it was a bad choice. She could feel them leavening, softening, her ass as she shoved one after another into her mouth. But she couldn't seem to stop. Carbs were her friends in times of need. No matter how good the bread sticks were, this dude had 5 more minutes and then she was gone.

Just as she was gathering her things and giving the bread sticks one last, longing look, he approached. Outdoorsy, check. Over 6 feet, check. So far, this was pretty good. Well, other than the whole almost 20 minutes late part. She would give him the benefit of the doubt and wait for his explanation on that one.

And then he spoke. "Tay-ruh? Is that you?" Startled, Tara reached to shake his hand. "Nuh-uh honey, we say hello with a little sugar." He must have noticed the confusion on her face. "Sugar...glucose...dextrose? Darlin' I mean a kiss." Strike two. Though she didn't pull away, Tara certainly wasn't a willing participant in the "sugar" giving.

He sat down and begin trying some small talk, half of which Tara missed completely because his accent was so thick. And that's when things went south. If you will. He picked up the menu and a metallic glint caught Tara's eye. It was a wedding ring. At least it was a plain, gold band on his left, ring finger.

He noticed Tara looking at it and said, "Oh right, mah wife and me are on a little break. It's cool though. She's cool with me being out." Strike three. Thankfully the waiter chose that moment to appear and ask what they'd like to drink. Tara couldn't get her order out fast enough. "Lots and lots of tequila, and don't forget the limes and salt."


Here's my pantry item...beer bread mix. Yum.