Two Old Bags Tear Up The Town

My friend and baking assistant, Marilyn, and I went out for lunch the other day.  I ordered a double vodka martini, and she ordered a Manhattan, which wasn’t on the menu.  The young gal waiting on us took the order and left.  When she returned with the drinks she was positively ga ga with excitement after knowing what went into them.  On the menu they have the usual frou frou drinks made with half a dozen liqueurs and juices, but our drinks eschewed any additional mixes.

She came up with the drinks, and set them down saying, “Wow!  When the bartender told me what was in each of your drinks, I thought I couldn’t drink that!!”  We said, “Just wait.  In 25 years you’ll be sluggin’ back straight booze and thinking nothing of it.  Then you’ll think about us.”  Really, the young are so much weaker than we are.

And it’s a good thing to have health and strength given the myriad challenges with which one is presented.  When Denis and I arrived home after leaving Nicky here for 48 hours, the kitchen counters were covered from one end to the other with dirty dishes.  The gate to the yard was slightly open, and the sliding door ajar!  I said to Denis, “I just hope the dogs survived.”  Fortunately, they had, so Denis and I, like beaten mules, just got busy and cleaned up this sty.

I left a message for Monda Rosenberg, Food Editor for Chatelaine Magazine, but of course, no reply.  So I have had to go into my list of contacts to try and find someone who might know her and who would suggest to her that she should try my fruitcakes.  It is maddening, but I know it is for the woman’s, as well as the entire country’s own good to find out about my product.

Other than that, I have done absolutely nothing to attempt to market my fruitcakes.  I’m going to make 5000 this year, and that is it.  I doubt that I could ever force myself to exceed that number, so maybe deep down inside I know that mass marketing is just plain crazy.  However, anyone reading this who has ever sold anything knows the insane thrill of the sale, and how it becomes addictive.

And speaking of addictive, today I was at one of my favourite stores.  Yes, I was in Value Village browsing the aisles, when lo and behold, there was a sweet little stainless steel flask!  When I got to the till I said to the girl, “This’ll be fantastic if I ever find myself at an event where drinking would seem inappropriate.”

As usual, this was another of the earth’s younglings, so I received one of those, “heh, heh, heh” nervous laughs, as she was hoping that I would just shut up and move along.  Really, it does remind me of that age-old song, “What’s the matter with kids today?”  Remember that?  “Why can’t they be like we were, perfect in every way?  What’s the matter with kids today?”

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