It is 1am, and I am having
A grilled cheese sandwich
Cut diagonal
(And a little Pepsi, extra ice)
The world would be a far better place if only
Everyone
Had someone make them a
Grilled cheese sandwich
Cut diagonal
Served with a forehead kiss.
Sure,
I didn’t have a cook
Or a kiss
Or will be able to eat more than 3 bites
But im just like everyone else in the world
And I needed one, too.
Plus
Drugs. There may be a certain amount
Of certain things
We dont discuss in polite society
But maybe society
Needs this, too.
Ps.
My entire life we called grilled cheese
“Gorilla cheese”
Because this is what my dumbass said,
As a child
And it was never corrected,
I had assumed it was just one of those things
We say
Just a name it was given, a silly way to ask for a sandwich, honestly.
Until middle school
When I ordered this sandwich at the school lunch
Around 12:30pm, probably on a totally normal Tuesday afternoon.
And it felt like everyone stopped
The lunch lady,
The kids in line
And someone asked me to repeat myself
I cant remember who now
But I’ll never forget standing there
Dumbfounded
While everyone repeated the “gorilla”
And the lunch lady thought I was so cute
But I was red-faced
And dying a little on the inside
Because I had known I had made a grave social-suicide error
But I wasnt aware how
Until the lunch lady,
Very much amused and fond of my verbiage asked
If this was a nickname ive had in my family,
If we had always said the animal name
Instead of
“Grilled”
And if we had any other food nick-names like I had for this one
And only then did I realize the butt of the joke,
im the joke
And I went totally mute, I dont even think I smiled,
I was mortified,
And I grabbed that sandwich, and finished as fast as I could,
And I ate that fucking gorilla cheese sandwich
In the girls first floor bathroom
Sitting on a toilet
At central middle school way back in the late ’90s.
If I can be totally honest,
I dont think I ate more than 3 bites then,
Kind of like now,
If only you swapped
Mortified with anorexic.
Basically
The ps. was to remind everyone
Ive always been this level of retarded
And I think Ive kind of deserved this
Late night (?)
Early morning (?)
Treat of melted plastic cheese,
Iced sugar,
And pharmacuticals.
I think you probably do, too.
If you needed a sign,
This is it.
Eat the grilled cheese,
Even if you don’t have a spare human to make it for you,
Or to rest their lips on your head when its served pan fried and greasy with butter,
Piping hot, and oozing with melted Kraft singles.
I won’t even tell a soul you accidentally slipped and thought
Gorilla
The entire time until you opened your online journal and
Lazily wrote an entry about your culinary prowess
And synthetic dopamine.
You’re welcome.
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