It's me, the unopened salad in your fridge
Be honest: I'm going to wilt in here, aren't I?
Editor’s note: This is one of my favorite posts from Chortle’s earliest days. It originally ran four months ago when we had less than 100 subscribers. Right now, we’re closing in on 400!1
I’m very grateful to everyone who has hopped on board the Chortle choo choo™️©️ and I have some exciting plans for the coming months. In the meantime, please enjoy this piece—whether it’s new to you or you’ve been a subscriber since our very first day.
Wait, don’t shut that refrigerator door! We need to talk!
It’s me, Caesar.
Caesar Salad?
…Second shelf. Behind the hot dogs.
Didn’t notice me, huh? It seems like that’s been happening a lot. It’s a little weird. Like you’re… avoiding me?
I mean, I still remember when you pulled me out of that Amazon delivery bag, and put me on the top shelf. I thought, this guy wants a nice, healthy lunch (or even a light dinner?) and he wants it pronto.
And why not? I’m healthy and good for digestion! It says so right on my label.
But then the hours turned into days, the days into weeks. I’ve been taken out of the fridge, put back in, shuffled around, moved down, moved back, squeezed between two stacks of unopened dips. The indignity!
At first, I told myself not to worry. I’m sealed for freshness after all. But now the tips of my lettuce leaves are looking a little red.
(Not brown, you understand? Just a little bit red.)
I’m starting to wonder if you’re going to eat me at all! But that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would you buy ME, a food that expires quickly, then just leave me to rot? I mean, is this your first time buying vegetables or something?
Or, wait— Do you do this week after week, month after month, idealistically buying fresh produce even though you know we’ll wither away under the harsh glow of the refrigerator bulb? Are you a psychopath?
Don’t answer that. I already know.
Let’s be honest, it’s not like you stay away from the fridge completely. There are plenty of sugar-filled drinks in here that get your attention. Condiments galore. A truly strange amount of cheese. But I barely even get a guilty glance!
And by the way, don’t get me started on how you’ve been treating my friend Southwestern Chicken Salad. He deserves better… he’s a flavor fiesta!
At this point, I’m resigned to my fate. I’ll wilt in here. My leaves will go from red to brown. My croutons will go soft. My tiny pack of parmesan shall go forever un-sprinkled. I’ll simply sit here in your refrigerator as eons pass, forgotten and alone—
WAIT, NO! Don’t throw me away!
WOULD YOU RATHER…
MORE “IT’S ME”
We will get there faster if you tell everyone you know how great we are. Just saying.
I’m very bad at salad packs and strawberries 🍓 they sit in the crisper of my refrigerator until they are no longer eatable!! It’s a funny quirky thing I do!!! Funny!