Over the course of just a couple of days, we made some new friends, we ate some food and D got in trouble. If KAF terms, that’s a rollicking good time. Even more exciting than sitting beside the North Line rat trap and its implied promise of vermin.
A Just DFACS Crossover Speical
I was wandering around the Interwebs last week looking for blogs about KAF. “Are there other artists, such as I, producing top quality literature, well researched, informative articles and complaining about the shitters?”, I wondered. I came upon one called SimplyJosephine. She too was writing about food and fitness but in ways I found quite perplexing. You see, I’m used to making DFAC food choices based solely on the offerings’ relative likelihoods of not inducing nausea. This Josephine character spoke of health, vitamins and calories and such. Her take on exercise was even more baffling. She refers to crossfit merely as “crossfit” rather than the much more apt “fucking crossfit”. So, I posted some smart ass comment on her blog. She then linked back to my blog and was, apparently just as fascinated by my take on things as I was by her odd outlook. So, we decided to gather our entourages (her friend R and my regulars, D and M) and meet for dinner at the Cambridge.
Remember those “crossover” episodes of TV programs in which characters from other shows make appearances? You know, like when Laverne and Shirley appeared on Happy Days or better yet, when Richie Cunningham was on Laverne and Shirley. Those were fucking awesome, right? Well, this post, featuring another blogger, is exactly like that. Yes, it is. Fuck off, it is so.
Upon entering the DFAC, Josephine seemed keen on deciphering my DFAC mojo. She gamefully went for the awesome Yorkshire Pudding I suggested but declined the shitty roast beef, fries and gravy I opted for with a barely disguised look of disdain. Ya, I eat like crap.
As we made polite dinner conversation with nary a mention of shit, we discovered that Josephine and R were both doctors…and I don’t mean fake doctors like philosophy professors or Phil…real, honest to goodness medical doctors. I think I can speak for D and M when I say we found that kind of impressive. That’s probably why we were a little taken aback by Josephine’s interest in and respect for the DFAC-O-Matic. She was seemingly impressed that M had built it, asking “So, is it hard to program an app?” “Not really”. M replied, “It can be complicated but not too bad once you’ve got enough practice and know what you’re doing”. “But really, it must be quite difficult,” she pressed. “Well, Is surgery is difficult?,” M asked.
They described situations where there would be up to 15 doctors working in the ER at one time. This led D to comment on our way home, “If you put 15 aircraft techs in a room to work on a problem…there’s gonna be a fight”. After they had described their stressful and important work at the Role 3, M and I felt a little embarrassed about our ongoing debate as to whether the problem with the chocolate pudding was a lack of chocolatiness or of puddingness but, bereft of any self-awareness or decency, we rambled on.
Despite our warnings of unmeltable ice cream, Josephine got some for dessert. She discovered the hitherto unknown DFAC raspberry flavour and had some of it along with the chocolate ice cream-unlike substance. Not surprisingly, the chocolate “ice cream” didn’t melt while the raspberry did. This led R to describe some new-fangled non-melting popsicles. Prompting I, of course, to describe the wonders of carrageenan which R somehow knew all about already. Fucking medical school…stealing my thunder.
After 3-4 years together, we’ve told each other all our interesting and most of our dull anecdotes. We often spew inanities just to fill the silence …sort of stream of consciousness dinner conversation. It was really nice to have new people to inflict our KAF-dulled wits upon. Let’s do it again sometime.
Whatever Floats Your Boat
Props to D for thinking outside the bowl and getting his chocolate ice cream (the real stuff at North Line) in a big cup and filling it up with Coke (diet, of course). I followed suit. D thought it was pretty fucking awesome to be able to have a Coke Float in Kandahar and I was pretty chuffed too…til I realized we didn’t have straws. “There is a war going on, you know”, D chided. Realizing I should be chastened, I thought back to the heroic work our medical dinner guests had described only the night before, looked around at the weary, gun-toting soldiers, contemplated the future of the Afghan conflict and the existential lessons I might draw from my experience here and said “But D, floats just aren’t the same without a straw.”
Cambridge, you’ve got the greatest egg guy in the history of DFACS but you do a disservice to his craft by serving that horrible, noncuttable, indigestible, untastable garbage you tried to pass off as “bacon”. I can put up with British bacon and I’m even willing to ignore the insult to my homeland and choke down that shit you used to call “Canadian bacon”. I think that stuff you served on Sunday, 21 June was made of either turkey or vinyl, neither of which is suitable for the production of bacon.
Need for Speed
A couple of nice changes of pace over the last two days. Not sure if the highlight was meeting the fun, cool doctors or watching D’s head almost explode as we tried to comply with the imperious demands of the IMP when we signed him up for the drivers’ course.
“Sit on it” – Richie Cunningham