Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Corned Beef Hash

Warning: I know it seems absurd with such a title, but this post is rated PG-13 or 15 or so.

My friend Banjo and I got so good at Taboo that we could do them all in one or two words.

Banjo: Bubbles

Smurf: Root beer!

Banjo: Not at a crime

Smurf: Bannister

Banjo: Doo doo doo

Smurf: Tchaikovsky!

We could get up to 14 or 15 in one turn. The trick was to boast about our mental connection while at the same time acting like we'd never played before. "So is this kinda like Password? We're really good at Password."

Then we'd destroy them.

There was one card that caused us particular consternation, however. It was one that read "corned beef hash." Banjo had never tried it, and he couldn't ever seem to get a grasp on what it was from my descriptions. "Wait, it's dog food for people? I don't get this."

Then came Youth Conference 1998. We did a canned food drive for the homeless as our service project. One of the bags that were left for us contained a can of precious corned beef hash! I was ecstatic. This was our chance!

When we got back to the church where our dance would be held that evening, we set down our bags with all the rest, but I walked away with one stray can in my hand. I walked toward the room where my backpack was stored, but the door was locked. I turned around to find some other place to stash the hash, but there were some church-lady types coming up the hall toward me. I ducked into the men's room and looked around for a hiding spot. I noticed one of those air-freshener things high on the wall, so I stuck it on top of that where it wouldn't be noticed. I did my business, and then as I was washing my hands I noticed the problem. The can was clearly visible in the mirror. I got it back down and peeked into the hall. The door to my backpack was locked, and the ladies were still barricading the other end of the hall with their gossip. I was getting desperate. I looked in the stall.

Then I got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE SMURF
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

I took the wrapper off of the can (container), took the lid off of the can (toilet), and stuck the hash in the water in the back of the crapper. I would come back for it later.

Later:

During the dance, I was walking by that hall to get a drink of water when I noticed that the room with my backpack was open. I made haste, running inside the bathroom, throwing open the stall door, and--

--and the fat Mexican kid inside the stall had been masturbating when I first burst in, but now he was yelling at me. "What are you doing in here!?"

"What are YOU doing in here!?" I gasped. I was far away from the stall by this point.

"What's your problem? Why don't you knock?" he demanded.

"Why don't you lock the door?" I countered, "especially if you're going to be doing...." I fled.

In my head the whole time, I was just thinking, "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHGHHHHHHH."

A few minutes later I saw el Mexicano gordo y masturbante back on the dance floor with some innocent young girl in his manos, so I cautiously slipped back into the bathroom, retrieved the can, and packed it away in my backpack.

Banjo and Tox and I ate it the hash the next morning, and Banjo got to see just how barely tolerable the stuff really was. We had learned our lesson, though: never ever ever steal from the homeless. Bad things happen. There was one positive outcome of the whole ordeal, however....

Banjo: Masturbating Mexican

Smurf: Corned Beef Hash!

We were unstoppable, baby.

7 comments:

VenerableRyo said...

Okay, I'll admit... I snorted when I read this. In the church bathroom... and HE was yelling at YOU?! The nerve of some people.

Trueblat said...

I'll never understand my brother and sister when they used this one, I can't remember which so I'll put both.

Brother: Tortoise

Sister: Dolphin

-or-

Brother: Porpoise

Sister: Turtle

Mustard said...

I remember when that happened...it is more funny with time! I actually laughed out loud.

Betrayed. said...

You put Smurf:
at the top
and Shoebox:
at the bottem
giving away such secrets so freely, as if they were candy...
bad candy, the kind you don't want during halloween, wrapped in mysterious orange and black wax papers, giving no clue as to what might lie underneath.

The Ring Bearer said...

Oooh! Candy! *Disturbing images of a voluptuous lady of color with braces suddenly leaps into my mind*... aagh!! How could such a sweet sweet word suddenly become so corrupted? I may never look at the candy jar in the office in the same light ever again.

Levin said...

Thanks for the laugh and the story. Yet another reason why it is not a good idea to attend church dances.

eleka nahmen said...

Oh my... did I miss such a horrendous image in relation to the candy jar?

I guess that's what happens when I don't pay attention to the goings-on at work...