Half-Past the Crockpot

“What time is it?”

Someone looks over the boxes into the kitchen and says, “Oh yeah…the microwave is dead. So, half-past the crockpot.”

Where the microwave once sat, now sits a crockpot surrounded by everything that went on the microwave: plastic bags, paper plates, and for some unknown reason umbrella girl salt.

I wanted the microwave to go out in style; sparks, smoke, an explosion of food blowing the door off, and that smell of fucked electronics mixed with burned to carbon food. That would have been a fitting death for the microwave. Nope. The microwave just turned off. The microwave’s last act, thirty-seconds of attempting to melt butter. Not successful. Proving the point that the microwave was toast…wait, no we’ll go with that.

Microwaves annoy me. People who claim to cook with microwaves, annoy me even more. There is no cooking with a microwave, Food Network be damned. Popcorn, which will kill you (watched a something about microwave popcorn causing cancer (what doesn’t?) and not a story on the number of people who have had a late popping kernel striking them in the eye), television dinners, reheating leftovers, and reheating cold beverages. Speaking of which, if you make coffee hot, shouldn’t you drink it hot or as soon as it reaches a mouth pleasing temperature? My thoughts too…yet, I know several coffee “drinkers” (coffee let sit arounders) who wait for their coffee to reach that mouth pleasing temperature, forget about the coffee, find the coffee, reheat the coffee back to scalding, and then…you get the idea.

I used to, back in the dark days of me, use a microwave when I did not know how to cook. I thought I was cooking. After all every meal in or out of box tasted good; that is what I tell myself now to mentally deal with the shame. That was cooking. Then I learned how to cook and learned what role microwaves have in the kitchen and since I am not McFucksters I do not need my food hot and ready via microwave technology.

No, I did not use the microwave to pre-cook potatoes; oven all the way baby. Television dinners for those once in a blue moon moments of weakness where the seductive image of fried chicken or BBQ somethingresememblingbeef on the cover forces me to purchase it, also goes in the oven. I know, why wait a half-hour or more, when I could microwave it…because even when eating crap food I need to feel like I had a hand in cooking it. Besides if a half-hour is too long to wait for food you needed to eat a half-hour prior. That’s on you.

So what was the microwave for, you ask? Didn’t you read the opening sentence, a clock. A digital clock. Because while I may be old school in the kitchen, I want my time NOW. 🙂


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