What a Cracker!

Passing the night in our usual careless manner of drinks, smokes, and jumping conversation, my friends and I start to dabble in religious talk. Just as our banter kicks off in its all too well known trend of Jesus jokes and the newest apocalypse conspiracy theories, my friend Francois cuts into the gab with a new line no one has heard; “I know there’s a God” He sternly gazes passed his audience as if back into the birth of reason, brandy in hand naturally. Now he’s looking us in the eye, “because the things we have to do…are the best.” we all stare at him in anticipation for the coup de grace of his little epiphany.

“To eat. To shit. And to fuck” he victoriously counts the three pleasures off with his fingers.Now he’s looking at us, grinning and nodding his head slowly as if waiting for us to snap the sheer brilliance of it. We don’t, and tell him to go take a holy shit.

Today, a good few months after this episode, I snapped it. All thanks to a cracker…

This morning a woke to a pleasurable breakfast of rice cakes with tahini spread, cottage cheese, tomato, spinach leaves, and some garlic for garnish. It tastes good. No doubt. I make another one and wonder why these crackers are so damn tiny. The day takes it course. Later that night my man and I smoke a fatty on our way home. I get stoned. Efficiently & effectively baked. All I can think is ‘Polly want a fuckin’ cracker!’ It seems the munchies have kicked in. When we finally reach our destination I’m drooling in anticipation. Like a homing missile I launch myself into the kitchen and start to recreate my breakfast. But it all seems a little different. The crackers actually seem larger, the tomato redder, and the garlic smells more potent. As I take the first bite, my face contorts in amazement. Crunching through the rice cake I feel the tahini scrubbing my tongue while the juicy tomato pours over my taste buds,the garlic electrifying my palate.I groan with pleasure as the flavors combine more beautifully with every mouthful . I find myself revisiting the words of my friend François with a new sense of appreciation. Maybe there is a God. Or alternatively I am God of all crackers and they worship me by have orgies in my mouth. I deem both hypotheses equally plausible.

So three cheers for the combo of chronic and crackers for almost getting me to believe in a higher power!