I will take this rare opportunity to defend myself and my eating habits.
Yes I tend to put various items in the fridge – canned beans, cereal boxes, shoes, etc. – but I do this for practical reasons, mainly Ants.
Ants are relentless here in Casco Viejo. I’m not sure if it’s shotty workmanship on the part of the construction crews, or ants with razorblade teeth riding bicycles. Either way, these guys are relentless. Crumbs on floor, gone in an hour. Cereal box on the counter, Ant central. Shoes on the ground….shoes on the ground. Well, you get the point. As for the shoes, I must admit, the shoes were an exception. I had spoke with Elida and my mother about some smelly shoes I owned. My mother said baking soda, Elida said the refrigerator….or so I thought.
Lady friend of Matt. “Why are there shoes in the fridge?”
Keenan “What do you mean? Where do you put your shoes?”
Lady friend of Matt “What?”
Keenan “I’m trying to get rid of the odor”
Lady friend of Matt to Matt “Is he serious?”
If you hadn’t figured out, I misinterpreted what Elida was saying yet again.
Anyways, so what if I’ve put some old pieces of COMIDA in the fridge. I eat it. That’s all that matters. Matt and the maids don’t have to touch it. And as for my salads. They’re tasty. Nothing special and not something I’m incredibly proud of, but I like them and I call them “Ensalada de Basura”, Trash Salad. Quite far from resembling anything refined and I envision Iron Chef Morimoto shaking his head and waving his finger in disapproval, but I’m not feeding him or anyone else. I’m responsible for one stomach right now.
Funny thing about all this is that my college roommate, we’ll call him Browns, who is actually visiting by the way, has odder habits. Back at the University of Richmond, Browns would order take-out and order a page to 2 pages of a menu which would equate to 10-15 dishes upon delivery. Browns would then take each of those dishes and pour them in a big bucket. After everything had been thoroughly mixed, himself and his two dogs would sit around this bucket and chow. And if that wasn’t weird enough, we once found a blender in the kitchen with what looked like vomit in it. We asked Browns if he knew what it was and he said he tried mixing and drinking/eating General Tso’s Chicken and a beer. We said “ehh” , he said “Tasted good.” And you thought putting shoes in the fridge was odd.