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12.11.2009

beans in the elevator.


i'm
not quite sure when i became so honest.

well, actually that's not true.

i think i've always been honest. but upon request only.

my truths were mine--they were private things.

i suppose the extent to which i have relinquished my privacy (by making these truths public) has everything to do with coping with a disease--the truth of which made manifest in my body each and every day.

much as i wanted to lie, much as i wanted to hide--my body exposed new secrets each day in fresh ways--the puffiness of my cheeks, the snugness of a favorite sweater.

it was ned who changed the game. he made the battle a public one. and my willingness to fight back with honesty is more response than anything else.

so yes. now i am forthcoming in hopes of staying a step ahead. of controlling the story, if you will.

and i rarely ever lie. (which is not necessarily a good thing. lying {like flirting} is a skill which can prove important and necessary at various times).

so when i do, i am out of practice. and i flail a bit.

there had been a stench coming from the kitchen for a while. more time than i'd care to admit, actually (omission). and i kept returning to the fridge. trying to suss it out (correct usage? oh, who cares.) where was it? what was emitting foul odor?

i threw pounds of stuff away. stuff that was not mine. frozen meat that had been there for years. (remember i moved into an apartment where girls had lived for many cycles of the moon). questionable milk. rotting vegetables.

and still the scent persisted.

and i despaired.

i took the trash out.

i lysoled. baking-soda-ed. scrubbed. put my nose right up to...everything.

i finally found the offender.

black beans. perfectly normal looking things. no visible mold or rotting. but one sniff (and after coming to) i knew.

so i pulled our a trash bag, dumped them in, and hopped in the elevator to get to the outside trash receptacles.

and just as the doors were closing, leaving me alone with the beans for a mere three floors, totally doable in light of the odorless freedom on the other side, a girl stuck her hand in the rapidly diminishing crack, halted the door and got on.

three floors with rotting beans, myself, and someone else in a small enclosed space? not doable, no matter the prize.

the stench was...horrific. and i was...mortified.

so i lied.

i lied like it was my job.

"flowers gone bad," i said. for indeed that's what it smelled like.

she smiled coyly. and honest to God, i don't even think she spoke english. a waste (play on spelling intended, thank you very much) of a lie.

so here's the thing. i'll tell the truth about anything. my feelings. my past. all those skeletons that bernard shaw recommends we teach to dance. but a rotting can of beans? nope, no way. it was the beans that brought me to my knees. forced me to lie. the truth of them was just too much to share.

i mean, my God, what 24 year-old let's a can of black beans go bad to the point of turning putrid (because indeed the beans were mine.)?

i told you, i'm really not skilled in the kitchen.


confused as to who ned is?
or want more info on him?
check my sidebar.

15 comments:

Anonymous said...

So I guess you'll never eat black beans again. Too bad! I just got a great recipe for a dip.

Steph said...

Ah! That happened to me too! My roommates and I had an all out holy war against our fridge and it took us forever to figure out that it was the black beans. So seemingly innocent.

AbbieBabble said...

We are all so lucky for your honesty. It's inspiring, and just so fresh.
p.s. Beans are tricksy. Cooking is my thing, and more than once (if I'm following in your spirit of honesty, probably more than ten times), they've gone putrid in my fridge.

heather said...

oh gosh! don't even fret. that happened to me recently when i was hosting a guest. we did the same thing, scoured the fridge, until we found the culprit. a container of black beans!

Meghan said...

Oh my gosh, what a great story! I never would have admitted it myself!

Shannon said...

Oh Meg! How funny!

Unknown said...

hahah. i would totally lie about that sort of thing too... quick thinking with the flowers!!

Anonymous said...

This really made me laugh! You have such a way with words, I love it.

Andrea said...

(hand raised in solidarity, though meekly)
"Suss", is the term I believe.
The cat farted is my main lie... :D
a

Andrea said...

Hi Meg,
Me again...
I was awarded a Kreativ Blog Award and had to nominate 7 blogs for the same. You are one.
http://crownology.blogspot.com/2009/12/kreativ-blog-award.html
Andrea
:)
your mission if you choose to accept...

Sara said...

Cooking skills are overrated.

I lie about the weirdest stuff. For some reason, I can be totally up front with people regarding the amount of cheese I had and how it is slowly and painfully moving through my system, or the fact that I honestly can't remember the last time I showered, but I will not tell many people how much I like Rihanna or the movie Center Stage.

Good job with the flowers.

meg fee said...

so glad to know it's not just me.

black beans? so this is common? so, so good to know.

CrowNology,
suss, thank God for people far smarter than me, i'm about to fix it!

and Sara,

i don't think you're alone in loving center stage. in fact i know you're not!

Karls said...

I too recently had a stench I couldn't find... I moved the fridge to see if something had died behind it, took out the rubbish and disinfected the bin, scrubbed the floors, cleaned out the fridge but for the life of me couldn't find the stench of death. It ended up being some pork that my personal chef (and husband) had left in the microwave to defrost. Eff skills in the kitchen... get a husband who'll cook and clean. Niiiice!

Courtney said...

I started to comment on this earlier this morning.

And then I discovered there were chocolate chip muffins downstairs. So I'll try again.

Loved reading this, cringed when I read that a girl stepped in the elevator, and cheered when you said "flowers gone bad."

Why is it, that when you want privacy most in an elevator, to fix your bra, let out a burp, carry rotting beans, that someone ALWAYS steps in at the last minute?!

p.s. Sara and Meg- I'd squeegee mirrors with Charlie from Center Stage any day.

sheila said...

that's hilarious. who knew beans could smell that bad.