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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

I was just making fresh pesto for tonight’s Food For All.  Pesto for twenty and it can’t be eaten yet, basil is precious right now.

Then I was staring at two extra garlic cloves, peeled and sitting in a bowl.  My friend Edwin in Mexico taught me a trick.  It’s too early to call a habit.

Bite the garlic and chase it with hot, black coffee.

It burned a lot less today than I remembered.  I grabbed some fiery mustard and a jar of banana peppers (the fridge is rather well stocked with condiments right now).  I ate a couple peppers and swigged coffee, reminiscing.  Ashley can’t or won’t talk to me the rest of the day when I do this.

For the second clove, I buried it in mustard and threw it back like a grape.  I reached for the coffee and chased.  Slamming the fiesta ware on the formica,  I exhaled fire.  It stung my eyes.  Then came tightness of the chest and the back of my neck began to sweat.  Gosh I miss Edwin.

Then in a few seconds it passed.  I am getting stronger.

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