People who’ve met me generally think I am quite unremarkable. I know this because they never seem to want to meet me again, no matter how many times I call them. Not that this bothers me at all. I am perfectly fine being by myself.
But this is not about that. This is about ketchup. First off, I need to tell you this: I love ketchup. It is the sort of thing that was invented so that the world’s worst cook could get off easy. The concept works for me; I am the world’s worst cook. No one else eats what I cook. But that is mainly because I live alone by myself. So this is my own judgment on my own cooking.
Anyway, about ketchup. Thing is, I just discovered: they make it from pumpkins. Yes, all of it. There is no tomatoes in there. Not. At. All. If that isn’t a disappointment, I don’t know what is. Why make it red if there are no red tomatoes in there? Why not just make it yellow? Like they make mustard sauce? After this letdown, I am not even sure if that is mustard anymore. Maybe real mustard sauce would be blue. How would we know?
So my strong recommendation to ketchup manufacturers is this:
Print the truth on your bottles.
Like how you have disclaimers and denials in movie credits. You should say right there on your bottles: ‘No red, lush, juicy tomatoes were harmed in the making of this ketchup. In fact, no raw, bitter or sour tomatoes were harmed, either.’
Now that would be truth-telling. At least you would know that the pictures are there just to lie to you.
Yesterday I met a wonderful woman. (Yes, this is still about ketchup. Hear me out). Her friend, who is my cousin’s friend, set us up. We were supposed to go for a movie, but when we got off the bus (I told her the car was at the garage. That always works.), I saw that the Sub of the Day at the Subway was Chicken Teriyaki. I love Chicken Teriyaki Sub! And this one would be cheap on her. So I took my lady friend there instead. When she went to pay, I moved towards the salad counter. It just didn’t seem polite to stand there watching her count out the money without offering to help. So I moved away.
The good thing was, she seemed to enjoy her sandwich too, especially when I told her all those truths about the ketchup. She suddenly went very quiet and just listened to everything. This is what I call: Understanding.
But like I told you, this is not about her. Though, as an aside, I tried to call her this morning, and she never picked up the phone. By now, I am used to this behavior. Women are very unpredictable; they will do anything. Good that I no longer pay for their food or waste anything but my time on them.
Anyway, this is about ketchup. I love ketchup. Right now, I am planning to eat it all by itself. Or maybe I will combine it with something in the fridge. Mustard sauce would be a good bet.