Omelets in Cincinnati
This story takes place more than three decades ago, so I probably shouldn’t name cities. Things may have changed, and I don’t want the people in Cincinnati angry about something that happened in the ‘70’s. I was in Ohio for a national meeting of high school students from all over the country. I spent a week there, and was preparing to go visit my great-grandmother in Kentucky. The bus ticket had been purchased, and as I sat in the Cincinnati bus station, I decided I was hungry. Delicious aromas were wafting from the diner at the bus station, and one of my favorite breakfasts was a Denver omelet.
A Denver omelet has two of my favorite foods; onions and bacon. It may sound strange to someone who hasn’t enjoyed bacony and oniony goodness cooked in eggs, but I would advise anyone who hasn’t tried one to do so before judging. But you may want them to hold the green peppers, which are usually also in a Denver omelet. I don’t like green peppers, so I have the cook hold the green peppers, and everyone is happy.
Sitting in a bus station diner was a new experience to me. I had never been in a bustling transportation center, and as my breakfast was cooking, I contemplated the excitement of travel. I was listening to the noise build in the terminal as the morning travelers arrived. The smells from the kitchen were amazing, and I sat with my mouth watering, waiting for my omelet to arrive.
I don’t know if it was the new surroundings, the fact I was hundreds of miles from home on a grand adventure, travelling by myself for the first time, or a combination of all of the above, but I was excited. The omelet arrived, looked delicious, and I was starving.
Did I mention a Denver omelet has cheese? The combination of eggs, onions, bacon and melted cheese combined for one of the most delicious breakfasts I had ever had. I sprinkled a little bit of salt on it (since I put salt on almost everything, and yes -- I know it’s not healthy for me) and my taste buds were in heaven. Yes, I love bacon by itself. I love onions and garlic. My stepfather wanted to be Italian and he was a great cook. Everything he cooked had onions and garlic in it. Even some sour cream cookies. What really happened was he liked to put garlic in the sour cream for baked potatoes, but then forgot about the garlic when he made the cookies. They tasted okay, but had a kind of strange, sharp aftertaste. So when that onion taste combined with the bacon, cheese and eggs, I was transported.
To this day I can still remember how good that omelet tasted. There really aren’t many times you can have a breakfast you can recall decades later. As I finished the omelet I pushed the plate back in total satisfaction.
To understand the next part of this story, you need to know I grew up in Utah. It’s a desert state, and the combination of the extreme heat and cold winters eliminates a lot of pest problems other places have. You may be anticipating where this story is going, so if you want to skip ahead I don’t blame you.
I looked into the kitchen. Since I was sitting in the middle of the front counter, there was a door leading into the kitchen right in front of me. I seem to remember the floor was an industrial yellow, not unexpected in a city bus station. As I sat there in bliss, the floor seemed to move a bit.
I wasn’t sure what I had just seen. Then the floor moved again. In fact, a couple of small pieces of the floor seemed to run quickly from one side of the door to the other. And then back again. I was a recent high school graduate, but my education hadn’t included this. Was I having hallucinations from the delicacy I had just consumed?
I looked closer, and the floor moved again. As I focused on a small yellow piece of the floor which had moved, stopped and moved again long enough for me to focus, I realized what I was seeing.
Cockroaches.
I had never seen a cockroach in my life. I’d always wondered what they looked like. I didn’t really know much about them, but I knew they weren’t supposed to be in a kitchen. My stomach turned a bit, but I am happy to announce that is all that happened. If I knew then what I know now about cockroaches, my response might not have been so mild.
I’ve had Denver omelets since then, but that was the best.
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Forget Your Anniversary
I’ve been married more than three decades. I remember our first anniversary, and I was so clueless I took my wife to Park City. There are lots of upscale shops there in case you’ve never been, and I thought I was being creative. I told my lovely bride to take the checkbook and buy anything she wanted. She cried, but not for joy. She wanted a well-thought out present; one that I had put some time and thought into. I can’t remember what happened after that, but I guess the good news is that the fiasco didn’t end in divorce.
Fast forward a few years, and my wife tells me now if I did the same thing she would be off and spending like the roadrunner. Of course I have a few more years under my belt now, and there is no way I would ever make that offer again. Spending years together can teach you lots of stuff.
Recently we were about to celebrate our 32nd anniversary. I had even put some thought into what to do, and we had both discussed the fact we should probably buy a combined gift. That’s as far as the discussion ever got, but we both remembered our anniversary was fast approaching.
I was going to be busy with two different things going on at school, and we are both very involved people. Suffice it say we sometimes get so busy we neglect remembering certain things. Like anniversaries.
On October 14th, 2009, we both got up to get ready for school. This is the day of our anniversary, and neither of us said a word about it as we spent about an hour together before going to work. So far so good. If neither of us remember, then there is no one to blame.
As my day rolls along, one of the students in my first class asks me the date so he can write it on his assignment. “I think it’s October…14th,” I said. Then to no one in particular I also said “Why does that sound so familiar?” My voice trailed off, and while I knew it must be something important, I went on to the business at hand.
My wife is at her school and remembers our anniversary at lunch, sending me a text message wishing me a happy anniversary. Unfortunately, I had neglected to take my phone to work. The message arrived at home, and I was still clueless.
After lunch I am asked the same question by another student. “What is the date?” This time I didn’t hesitate and succinctly said “October 14th…”, followed by the words, “Oh, crap.” The students look up at me and ask what’s wrong.
“It’s my anniversary,” I sheepishly said to the class. Of course they asked me if I remembered to do anything, and I had to say no. But then I also remembered I was teaching a workshop my wife would be attending. My wife had volunteered me to teach the class, and she would be one of the students. I had about 3 hours to get something, and my class suggested I get some roses on the way. I followed their suggestion, and had a dozen roses on the way.
We were meeting at a different school, so I prayed I would arrive first. As luck would have it, I did get there first, and was able to give her flowers as she arrived. She was pleasantly surprised, and insisted she had remembered first, which her text would prove.
I don’t think it was really enough, since she ignored what I was teaching to the other people. She was checking her e-mail, not following directions and ignoring me. Teachers really do make the worst students, and when the teacher forgets an anniversary the student may be justified in misbehaving. But if you think about it, she really didn’t need to pay attention in class. She knows I will show her what we learned sometime in the future when she wants to learn it.
We were both dumfounded that we had completely spaced our anniversary. I think it may have had something to do with the fact we couldn’t celebrate until the weekend since I was also teaching public speaking later that same night. And the next night. So maybe the pressure was off.
But later in the week we went to one of our favorite restaurants and had some good company and some good food. It makes me wonder if there are marriages out there which have ended because one or the other partner forgot the anniversary.
What is the end result when both people forget? Now you know the answer. Both people sheepishly admit they forgot and they have dinner later.
I hope I don’t forget again.
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