A Lot Of Fuss Over Salt
Amber1 came back from GNC today and, in the style of Vanna White, showed Glenn, Todd, and me the big honkin’ bottle of Pink Himalyan salt she bought.
“It’s like the new weight loss fad,” she explained, telling us about some detox thing she read about it. She said it’s hard to find now in stores because so many people are buying it, but I got excited because we have some of that at home!
“I guess Henry was trendy before everyone else!” I laughed. Then I paused and thoughtfully added, “You know, Henry has all kinds of weird salt in the kitchen…”
“Well, he cooks, doesn’t he?” Glenn snapped. “That’s why he has salt.”
Glenn and Todd started chirping about how salt is salt and there is no way that this pink shit is any better, but I had to back up Amber on this one because I just recently sprinkled some of those pretty crystals on my diet popcorn and it was great. “It really does taste better,” I insisted. “Probably because it’s pink.”
“So, you can taste colors now?” Glenn sneered. Then he immediately emailed our group a link to some article about how Pink Himalayan salt IS A SCAM.
YEAH WELL YOU’RE A SCAM, GLENN.
Amber asked me if I wanted any of her salt. “Sure, why not,” I shrugged, holding out an open palm. Walking back to my desk with a handful of freshly ground pink crystals, I said, “I feel like this a designer drug.” I bet Jonny Craig would do it.
Glenn declined Amber’s offer. “I know what salt tastes like,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, but this is PINK,” I reminded him.
“Sorry, I can’t taste color,” he said.
Is Turkey Meat?
“Do you eat turkey bacon?” Amber called over to me from her desk. “Wait, is turkey meat?”
God, someone’s high on salt!
Papa’s On Death Row
“The Boston Marathon bomber got the death sentence,” Todd announced to us later in the afternoon. “Wow, and he’s only 21,” he said in a “that’s a damn shame” tone.
“He’ll be in there for a long time, though” Glenn chimed in.
“Yeah, my penpal has been on death row since the 90s,” I said in my normal cheerful work tone (i.e. my “fake voice,” as Henry calls it), getting up from my desk to go on my lunch break. This allowed me to see Todd’s face as he quietly said, “Oh, for real?”
“You don’t seem very shocked that she has deathrow pen pal,” Glenn laughed.
“Oh, pen pal?!” Todd exclaimed, laughing. “I thought she said ‘papa’ at first and I was like, ‘wow, awkward’.” He told me later that for about 20 seconds, his mind was full of speeding thoughts, like, “I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE’S SO OPEN ABOUT THIS” and “OH GOD I WANT TO ASK HER WHAT HE DID!”
I legitimately had to get up and walk out because I was crying real tears from laughing so hard. I made a pit stop to the bathroom before going outside for my walk, and I sat in the stall laughing so hard that I know it sounded like I was under duress. After this, I proceeded to go outside where I walked around while laughing alone like a crazy person, but no one gave me a second thought because it was 4:00PM on a Friday in downtown Pittsburgh; I looked normal compared to most everyone else.
When I came back in from my break, Todd and I continued talking about our miscommunication.
“For some reason though, the funniest part to me is that you thought I call my dad ‘papa’!” I laughed, imagining myself wearing an apron and picking berries in the Alps while Papa cuts up the kindling. “The only thing my dad is notorious for is being in a Columbia Gas commercial,” I assured him.
What a weird day. I blame the salt.No tags for this post.