Thursday, January 5, 2012

The Clam Lover

    Why do people get offended so easily?  I went to a case-lot sale yesterday.  I didn't comb my hair or anything because I was so excited to get to the store before everyone else.  It was super-awesome.  I'm sure I looked like a gem, with wild hair and make-up just on one eye (the left one).  Anyway, there was a wind in my sails; I felt like I could fly because sometimes there's nothing quite like saving money so we can still make the house payment.  
    While walking through the store, I saw a huge sign for chicken soup--that sounded fantastic with carrots and chicken in REAL broth--so I bought a huge case of the stuff.  I even saved 75%; see why it's good to shop early!  Too bad when I got home, Clam Chowder filled the case NOT Chicken Noodle soup.  
    I called my friend, "Hey, I thought it was chicken noodle.  I can't hack this stuff, though.  But since I know you, I figured your family might like it.  You seem like a clam lover."
    Then, that woman--who I wanted to give a whole case of 75%-off soup to--FOR FREE--acted all butt-hurt.  "I seem like . . . a clam lover?" she asked, as if that's worse than going to Hell.  "What is that supposed to mean?"
    "That you love clams . . ." I paused trying to make things better, "and you look like it."
    "What made you think that?" she asked and I decided, she should be a lawyer.
    "Ummm . . . well, I guess it's because you're so . . . tough and so are clams."
    "Clams aren't tough.  They're elasticy."
    "That's what I meant.  'Cause clams are elasticy and you're so good at bouncing back from bad things.  You're a . . . survivor, like a clam."
    "Like the dead clams in the soup you want to give me?"
    Silence.
    "But you don't like clams?" she said.  "And you're comparing me to them . . . because I'm tough?"
    "Well, no."
    "But I'm like a clam?"
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    The conversation went nowhere fast.  I just wanted to get rid of some soup, not a good friend!  What could I say to get out of the bad situation?  I could say mermaids like clams and she was beautiful like a mermaid . . . No, the last comparison had crashed and burned.  I could say only the smartest people like clams, but then I'd sound like an idiot!  
    The point was, I'd just been trying to give her something she'd love and in a cutesy--fun, Elisa way.  I didn't want to call and say in a monotone, "Do you want some clam chowder?"
    "You're like a clam, but only in a good, great sense."  I sighed into the phone.  "Do you want the soup or not?"
   "Yeah, I'll pick it up tonight."
   "Is five good?" I asked.
   "That's perfect."
    "Hey," I said before she hung up because I couldn't help myself.  "I'm glad you're a clam-lover."
    "You got that right," she said before giggling into the phone.  "You're fun to mess with."
    "So are you," I said although I hadn't messed with anyone and she'd scared the crap out of me.
    I'm still not sure why, but I'll never look at clam chowder the same again.  I almost lost a friend over the stuff.  Really thinking about it, it's no wonder I hate clams so much.