Captain’s Log 5,904
I had a good time at the junkyard yesterday. Even though they charged us $12 (for six of us) just to go in and look at the junk, it was still amazing. Dirty, filthy, and amazing. It was also about 95 degrees out there in the dirt under direct sun. Naturally, the soda machines were all out of order. Once we got through security (yes there is a lot of security in the junkyard) and I got a receipt for the $12, we set off to find a large assortment of stuff we didn’t even understand.
After an hour of pulling and examining weird shit, we decided it was enough. We went back to the weird place where you pay for stuff (after climbing up on a steel structure and showing your treasures through a window). $111 later, we were good to go. Except for another security check as we were leaving. One would think that telling the junkyard guys that we were looking for symphonic instruments might have elevated our status a bit. No. We were viewed as criminals just like everyone else.
We went to the wrong junkyard first. It was up some weird road that was littered with old mattresses and debris. As we came around a curve, the sign that greeted us said YOU ARE GOING TO DIE. That felt really welcoming. I was kind of glad when that place turned out to be the wrong place. A large man with enormous tattoos on his neck was not happy to see us. I think he thought we were spies. I also think he was afraid we might take photos of his neck. I really wish I had snapped a photo of the YOU ARE GOING TO DIE sign, but I was too creeped out to even open the window.
There was a roach coach setting up as we arrived at the second junkyard, the one without the nasty sign. These are the original food trucks, not the gourmet guys who tool around serving fancy food like lobster rolls and asparagus lasagna. If you don’t speak Spanish, you might not know what you are eating. Maybe cabeza tacos made from cow heads. We bought some bottled water and called it good. We actually used the water to wash our dirty hands.
I have never eaten a cow head. I never want to. I have never eaten lobster either. I never want to. I have never eaten any animal organ meat. I never want to. I’m funny that way.
We went back to the museum with our wonderful filthy car parts (after stopping at Applebee’s for spinach/artichoke dip). I would much rather spinach than worry about eating cow heads from a truck parked in front of a junkyard. I don’t usually eat lunch so fancy like that, so it was a treat for me. I was so parched I made quick work of two large glasses of iced tea almost immediately. I also had a nasty case of hat hair from wearing a baseball cap at the junkyard. I looked like someone out on a pass from the “home” who had never experienced an icy drink before.
But the crowning glory of my day was coming home and remembering I had a can of Fri Chik in the cupboard. I cut some of it up into wee cubes and mixed it with Miracle Whip for a treat I call Heaven on a Ritz. It doesn’t take much to get me excited about faux meat and salad spread.
I know this looks like food you might make when the Rapture is starting and everything in your house has been destroyed by four large horses ridden by four angry ghost zombies, but I don’t care. I like it. If I actually DO hear that the Rapture has started, I am going to whip up some Heaven on a Ritz and sit in my driveway to wait for the zombie parade to come kill me. I least I won’t leave this world eating a cow head.
The cruise is tonight. I really do NOT want to go, but it’s part of the deal, and that means I get to make nice for longer than I usually make nice. I hope to be home by 9:00 at the latest. Adding 3-4 hours to an already busy work day is not my idea of fun. I did see the appetizer selection, and none of it contains cow head. Most of it is cheese stuff, so I am happy. I might tell the chef about Heaven on a Ritz in case they ever do a cruise for strict vegetarians.