Mrs. Avocado and the kiddo have fled the coup leaving Big Papa to fend for himself. Fortunately, as a youth, I received quality training from the eldest of Avocados – Big Bill Fox (my dad). Occasionally my mom would skip town placing my father in charge and survival mode would kick in. The pantry would be stocked with corned beef hash, shoe-string potatoes, tater tots, root beer and a few other essentials, like ice cream. I’ve had the cholesterol of 65 year old carnivores chain smoking alcoholic since i was 11 – but I’m alive to tell about it, thanks to the training of my father.
This weekend, I was able to put my skills to the test. Left to my own defenses, I realized my number one obstacle to survival would be eating. Despite a fridge full of food – I wasn’t quite able to crack the riddle of how to prepare it. Once the frozen waffle (singular) was gone, breakfast was off the table. Being the clever Fox that I am – I was able to compensate for this short coming by sleeping till lunch – a meal I’m quite qualified at shopping for. Day One- lunch- Fried Chicken Sandwich. Dinner — beer and little pickles – my favorite, yet somewhat insufficient.
Day Two – emaciated, and delirious – I called numerous female friends begging for help/advice. The most frequent response – “I’m so embarrassed for you”. With breakfast completely out of the question I dedicated myself to foraging for lunch. I ventured to the basement where we keep the Earth Quake supply kit and had found “expired” beef jerky. I say “expired” in quotes because it says – “best if served by December 2009”. Well I can confirm – it’s still pretty good a year later.
Fortunately, dinner worked out a little better. My wife chops up pigs for a living (sexy, I know). Her employers have always been kind to me, and allowed this disheveled neck-bearded vagrant in for a meal. Dy-No-Mite! Dopo – Best eats in the East Bay it’s the bomb.
Having taken care of my dietary requirements – I moved on to entertainment. Holiday party – Heyyyy! Highlights = gift exchange. Scored a saucy fish shaped tin guiro that doubles as a tie for classy occasions (hello new years).
Beer pong (aka beirut) was rather epic. While I brought my A-Game in the shit-talking department, I fell just a bit short in the actual winning aspect of the event. (To be honest – I win basically every game I play – and in the holiday spirit – I felt like letting someone else taste victory. Tis better to give than to receive).
But this survival weekend has had its downs as well. I watched a scary movie (during the day) – no biggie. But as night fell – things got a little creepy. I heard a noise outside. Instinctively – I turned to my side to ask my wife to go make sure everything was ok. Of course she wasn’t there – so I did the next best thing I could think of – pulled the cover up over my head and silently lay motionless until the morning. Fear not – I made it. Of course – that was only the second scariest thing that happened to me this weekend.
Number one most fucked up place on earth– Walmart in East Oakland; unless you are interested in buying some random dude’s bootleg CD’s – though to be fair, I’m sure it was truly “Jon Blaze an shit son”. I entered this shit show determined to get in and out before cinder blocks replaced my tires. I stood in front of a video game display that was locked for a good 10 minutes contemplating which murderous shoot you in the face styled game to buy my nephew. Deciding upon one with a zombie cowboy and a shotgun, I set out to find a key to purchase this serial killer step by step training device. To my dismay, there was a line 20 deep – just to get the single Walmart rep to open the display. With 19 people rolling their eyes, cursing under their breath (some less under than others) and one determined lunatic pounding on the glass announcing in a mocking accent – “I want-o to buy -o this video game-o. You speak-o english – o?” A coy smile suggested she did – but instead of saying – “fuck-o you-o”, she pointed him to the back of the line, with her middle finger. I guess some langauges are universal.
With the stench of McDonalds permeating through the place, and not because fat people everywhere stink like McD’s, but because there is an actual McDonalds in the Walmart – I decided to cut bait and head home.
I’m a few days from reuniting with my ladies. I don’t know what the future holds. Send me good thoughts, prayers and food. Please. I’m helpless and starving.
The Big (yet shrinking) Avocado