Sunday, March 12, 2006

Fix it!

I can just imagine the look on Eric's face as he shoved his mangled frying pan at Liz. "Tell her to fix it! Just fix it!"

It all started when I decided to cook for Ben and Joe. (I blame them! No, unfortunately, it was not their faults. Dag!) They didn't have a decent frying pan. (Aka, one big enough to cook more than one egg at a time.) So I went downstairs and asked Eric for a frying pan. He very quickly and cheerfully agreed and loaned me one of his precious frying pans. Oh happy frying pan! I took this pan, went back upstairs and proceeded to make pineapple chicken (not in the frying pan) and fried eggs with Ramen (that's what was in the frying pan.) Unfortunately, at home, all I ever cook with is cast iron. I don't think I've ever used a teflon pan in my life. It didn't occur to me that stirring with a fork would be a bad thing. Oh but it was. It so very was.

After the meal, I washed the pan and was about to give it back, when I noticed that the beautiful pan was now completely defaced with huge horrible scratches. Crap monkeys. I thought about it for a second. Eric seems like the kind of guy who would really like his cookware. Plus I'd already broken his ice scraper. The only thing I could do at the time was return the poor thing. So I sucked in my breath and went downstairs. He wasn't home, so I put it in the cabinet. Later I asked a few people how much Eric liked his pans. The answer, a lot. Double crap monkeys. What about his frying pan? That most of all. [edited!]

I decided that I would just have to replace it. I planned on doing it with much hast, but things kept getting in the way. Eric didn't seem any different to me, so I figured he must not have minded so much. I was wrong. So very wrong. (He is Latino after all.) Turns out he hadn't used the pan. . . until today. I got a call from Liz telling me she needed to talk. When she found me, she had a horrible look on her face. She didn't say anything, just pulled the frying pan out from behind her back and set it on the table next to me. "Joe was going to make an omelet --" "How mad?" I interrupted her, because I knew what she was getting at. The answer, very, very mad. Understandable. Now I have to get a new frying pan post hast.


Blogger Scarcely Human said...

One phone call, Jenne, and I can take care of this whole "Eric" problem. One phone call.

3:57 PM  

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