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Monday, October 13, 2008

Our Fourth-Runner-Up Columbus Day Contest Winner!

And the winners are in! Thank you to everyone who submitted, it was a great competition! Today's winner is Erin Snyder of Astoria, NY. Congratulations Erin! A new winner will be posted each day this week, with our grand prize winner appearing on Friday. Now here's Erin's story...

It all started with the worst batch of peach preserve you can imagine and the first cigarette I ever tasted, though regrettably not the last. The preserve was the culmination of a multi-million dollar project which was supposed to turn my career around; the cigarette was to calm my nerves. At least, that’s what Harris, my assistant, insisted they were for. That may be true down the road, but the first one just turns your stomach. So, I found myself doubled over, coughing up clouds of smoke interspersed with vomit outside of a test kitchen in Oahu, Hawaii.
“You okay?” Harris asked in that nonchalant tone of voice shared by sixty percent of the state. He took a drag and exhaled like the back end of a jet turbine.
“Great,” I said, spitting.
“Come on. Wasn’t that bad.”
“Tasted better... coming up,” I replied.
“Well... we’ve got till Discoverer’s Day to fix it. Maybe we can add honey or something.”
“We got until what?” I asked. I’d only been in the state for two weeks.
“October 13,” he said.
“You mean Columbus Day?”
“It’s Discoverer’s Day here,” Harris replied. “Why should we give Columbus his own day? Couldn’t even find our damn ocean.”
“Shut up and give me another cigarette.”
“You sure?” Harris asked.
“Yeah. I hear these things’ll kill me, and that’s sounding pretty good.” “Heh. Wait till you see the tax.”
“Christ, I hate this state,” I said.
“You didn’t mean it, did you? About the preserve tasting better the second time.”
“Damn right I meant it.”
Harris just stood there, staring at the pool of vomit. “Maybe... I don’t know. Maybe we could have the peaches smoked or something. Maple or hickory.”
I laughed for a second, then stopped abruptly. “That... could actually work.”

1 comment:

neal said...

The preserve was the culmination of a multi-million dollar project which was supposed to turn my career around; the cigarette was to calm my nerves. At least, that’s what Harris, my assistant, insisted they were for. That may be true down the road, but the first one just turns your stomach. So, I found myself doubled over, coughing up clouds of smoke interspersed with vomit outside of a test kitchen in Oahu, Hawaii.
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