Years ago I sat on the porch of a couple who were dear friends and listened to them go several rounds over the husband’s chronic transgression: dunking whole pickles in the jar of peanut butter. I heard this argument countless times from them; her frustration and disgust at finding pickle tracks in the peanut butter jar every time she opened it, and his unblinking assertion that pickles and peanut butter are delicious.
Of course, every couple develops a pickles and peanut butter argument, or a whole assortment of pickles and peanut butter arguments, given enough time. I am appalled by Scott’s use of old toothbrushes to clean things (but he does clean, a lot, so I really can’t complain) and his overuse of the words standpoint, proceeded to, and holy shit. Yet, he persists. Likewise, I persist in whatever it is that I do that drives him crazy. I’m sure he could offer a list in the comments. I am annoying sometimes.
Anyway, some of my fondest memories of my twenties involve spending entire days on this couple’s porch, drinking coffee or beer and smoking pack after pack of cigarettes (them, Benson and Hedges; me Marlboro Ultra Light 100s; my ex, Camel Lights). One night, after several rounds of the pickles and peanut butter argument, Mr. Porch invited me to try a pickle dunked in peanut butter, and weigh in on the matter. I was brave, and I was rewarded: it was delicious!
Mrs. Porch was not thrilled with that outcome, but it was REALLY tasty, and I couldn’t hide my joy in discovering a new snack. Eventually, Mr. and Mrs. Porch divorced, not so much over the pickles and peanut butter argument, but more over -among other things- her falling in love with a woman. In the shadow of that situation, Mr. Porch’s pickle problem was of little consequence, literally and figuratively.
The point in all of this is not so much to make a statement about relationships, but to make a statement about snacks. I have been ridiculously hungry for the past couple of days, and tonight I looked in the fridge, and what did I see? Pickles and peanut butter. We don’t usually have pickles around, but I bought some last week, and when I did a scan of the refrigerator for something, anything to snack on tonight, there were the pickles and peanut butter. I had a bread and butter chip and a glob of peanut butter and it was fabulous.
Mr. Porch, wherever you are these days (Pittsburgh?), thank you for tonight’s snack inspiration.
Epilogue: As far as I know, Mrs. Porch and her love are still together, but I haven’t heard from or about her in years. Mr. Porch remarried very happily and moved to Pittsburgh.
