Spare Some Change?

People should not change things and screw ‘em up.

I mean, yeah some change is good. We all need a little change from time to time, like, okay for instance, getting a new hairstyle, that’s a good change, or getting an oil change for your vehicle, that’s really good. Changing out all the old, white fuckers in Congress every two years… oh well, that’d be the absolute best change of all!

But there are certain things you just shouldn’t change… ever. 

I’ll give you an example. One day I happened to mention to one of my dear guy friends that I make a really delicious cherry almond coconut granola, and I… oh I know, it sounds amazing, doesn’t it? It’s really delicious, this is how I make it: I take organic oats, shredded cocon… hang on a second, I’m not giving you my recipe!

Anyway, he said well that sounds really good, how much did you make? and me not realizing this question was a trap, told him I made a huge batch of the stuff and then he went on to ask, well can you bring me some?

I immediately felt my sphincter muscle tense up because I didn’t want to give him any of my hard-earned granola, because, well, I’ll get to that in a minute, so I mumbled something about it not lasting very long ‘cause I eat a lot of it and left it at that. I realize this response was risking the fact he may very well be astounded at the amount of granola I could pork out on, especially since coincidentally, he’d just asked for some, but I can live with that.

However, the next couple weeks it was gnawing at me because I questioned why I was being so resistant to giving him any of my delicious granola, and then it occurred to me: I swore I wasn’t ever gonna be cookin’ for no goddamn man again!… and sorry for the horrible English, but it just spewed out that way. Look, I spent way too much goddamn time cooking for all my loser ex-husbands, so I am Dee Oh eN Eee DONE! I refuse to cook for another man ever again.

Okay… allow me to clarify that last part a little because I know I sound really harsh and it could be misconstrued that I’m not a good person: I was only married twice, so when I say ALL my loser ex-husbands, well, it came out wrong. Whew, glad I cleared that up! I mean, I don’t want to come across like I was a whore who only cooked for men! 

Okay, back to not wanting to cook for a bunch of creeps: I just didn’t want to give him any of my granola on this principle. 

But the gnawing persisted and then I realized the reason was because my friend is super kind and generous, and I know those are totally annoying qualities to have, mainly because it makes me look bad, but he’s just that way, and anyway, it was then I had remembered he fed my cats for me when I went away and it would be a really great gesture if I gave him some of my goddamn granola. Then I started feeling some things I hadn’t ever really felt at the same time before: kindness and reciprocation. 

Luckily feelings never last, but… you know what? In my defense, I am a stellar human being. Just because I don’t want to play nice all the fucking time does not make me a, does not make me… 

… well now I lost my train of thought.

So I concluded I’d better give him some of my granola if I ever wanted him to watch my cats again. As it happens, I had just made a brand new batch and since I had some left over from the previous batch, I could wrap up the old stuff and give that to him to insure his services in the future. Plus, I’d have a brand new batch left over for me.

I called him a few days later to ask how he liked the granola and he said it was “good”. Not delicious, not spectacular… good. How lackluster! He could have at least said it was yummy. But this is where things turn really dark, because he told me he added a bunch of stuff to it, like cashews and some other stuff I can’t remember because once I heard the word “cashew”, I completely shut down. How disgusting!

I’m being dramatic?

No… you don’t understand. Now every time I make my goddamn granola, I hear his voice ringing in my head saying “It was… good. I added some cashews…” and then I picture his smug face peering over a bowl of my bastardized granola, it’s ruined my breakfast forever!

There was absolutely nothing that needed to be changed yet he felt compelled to add more to it, because for some reason, men think they always need more of things… more blow jobs, more nuts… more… well, who doesn’t need more nuts, but… that’s not my point!

He essentially ruined my view of granola for the rest of my life and insulted me in the process. 

You know, if anything needs to change, it’s people’s attitudes, not someone’s granola.