Sacred Nachos

I figure if a person has an experience such as I had a little while ago, then the words fortunate and blessed seem to fail the actual experience. I’m talking about a bonafide, damned near made in the USA miracle. Makes the Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese Sandwich seem more like Madonna...no offense to the good lady Mary!

Call it a fluke, call it karma, call it a revelation, call it righteous...whatever it was, well, it was surreal. I realize I’m not worthy to even be a witness to such a phenomena, but at my age, a man takes what he can get.

It seemed to me sort of a poetic justice, or maybe injustice, to see JF’nK dipped in the cheese and peppers, with not a hair out of place and nor a wrinkle to be seen. This was truly a Botox Moment. It was only fitting to see Johnnie there. After all, we’re talking about diversity here. Cheese from Wisconsin, Mexico, and Switzerland. Chips made from Iowa corn, and beer from North Carolina. How righteous can anything get? Like, gag with me a jalapeno.

The meal itself was very good. I like spicy food, and spicy this was. I failed to close my eyes and bless this food, as I realized how could this serving be anymore blessed, as to having the cameo of JF’nK as a main player in the dip. Come on, I even had to nibble around “that area”, as I felt it may be hazardous to my health to get too close to “the man”. Know what I mean? I mean, here’s a dude who was almost president, a real nam hero, (just ask him about it)a blue-blooded gigolo of an old coot, and a man who married up rather nicely. Sanctimonious, dudes and dudettes.
After I recovered from the meal experience, I walked back across the street, across the parking lot, and back to my office, singing to myself, audibly, the words to “Why Me Lord”. I tell you, this was a very humbling experience. Could I have been? I mean, do you think it was? Uh, what above divine in...”? Whoa, Nellie...reckon it was a tap from the Big Guy himself? No, I don’t mean JF’n K. I mean the REAL BIG GUY!

Whatever it was, within two hours of this sacred supper, I began to have tumultuous heartburn. And it was heartburn from hell. Now, I wasn’t so sure of the sacrilege of the vision in the cheese and peppers. I began to have a dull headache...blurred vision. It was terrible. I’m thinking, "This is like, totally, not from God." Such a revelation. Wow. I knew it was near time to swing for the fence! But how could I decipher where this came from? At first, it was like divine, but then, it seemed to get really ugly. I didn’t exactly get sick, but I surely had seen better days, that’s for sure.

Anyway, that’s my experience with the Sacred Nachos, and I don’t know if I’ll ever go back over there (across the street) or not. This was one experience I could have lived without, and had to pay good money to experience it. One thing is for sure...maybe I should have left the nachos as is, and sealed them up and took them on the road. I’m sure I could’ve made a bundle. Especially in Florida, where the Kerry devotees have gone to therapy in droves. This could have been manna from above for them. All the healing properties of hot cheese and peppers. Would have burned their blues away. DAY-UM! Of all the opportunities to miss. *SIGH* Guess it wasn’t meant to be...for profit! Who’d a thunkit?

Walking away thumping chest..... BLECH! Thank you, Lord, for those Sacred, Sanctimonious Nachos. AMEN! BLECH!

BTW, this guy gets it!