So yesterday Flute Jim, Marley, and I tried to tackle a homemade meal. This meal consisted of grilled hot dogs, hamburgers, macaroni and cheese, and plain noodles (Marley doesn't like mac n' cheese). This was a good plan in theory, I'm a pretty good cook. I mean, I'm not like my roommate who blows up microwaves. However, I didn't realize I'm the only good cook out of the three of us.
I left Flute Jim in charge of the macaroni and cheese, since he's made it before. I don't know how it hard it is to screw up Easy Mac, but somehow he managed to do just that. It tasted super buttery and he overcooked the noodles. It was just a mess. But I felt weird about throwing away a huge pot of Easy Mac out, it's not good to waste things. So what do we do, call our friend Cass. He was sure to eat it.
Flute Jim calls him up, and we wait. It must have taken Cass at least twenty minutes to thirty minutes to show up to our apartment. That may seem like a reasonable amount of time, but he lives only a floor up. It should really take him like five. It took him so long because he went to Flute Jim's apartment instead of mine, and had to walk all the way back for terrible Easy Mac. It was probably the funniest thing ever.
P.S. Thankfully, Cass liked the macaroni and finished the entire pot. God only knows how he liked it though.
No comments:
Post a Comment