As I Lay Dying ... From A Salad

In the event I do survive, this will function as an ill-written eulogy.

I just received a call from my local Giant Eagle while eating the last couple bites of a salad. Here’s what they said, as I heard it:

“Though you have decided to buck the trend of both Mid-Western fat assery, and staving off the black man’s Achilles heel -- hypertension and high blood pressure. We have called to inform you that it is a losing battle. The leafy greens you purchased last week that you worked, oh so hard for, stand a great chance of being contaminated with Listeria.

Here you are thinking that bad batch of asparagus and overpriced broccoli you got from Trader Joe’s years back, would be the perfect reason for you to shop at a store that could sell you something you thought was healthy, at a better price.

Though the local news is only reporting the bagged salad and lettuce are the major culprit, I’m here to tell you -- just to be on the safe side, throw away all greens with the ‘Farmer’s Market’ logo on it. I mean, it says ‘Farmer’s Market’, but it should actually say, Farmer’s Mexico. Now I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking about that Nardwuar interview with Action Bronson. You know the one, where Bronson tells people to stop eating bagged anythings, because ‘them Mexicans be wiping their asses with the leaves’ [it’s around the seven-minute mark, can’t miss it].

Try your best to not think about these sorts of things on your weekend. Or the fact that you had a salad the night-before-last and have had an unbelievably scratchy and sore throat since then. Though these may be mild symptoms of listerosis, I assure you there are far worse things you could be thinking about -- or googling to see if you could die from.

Since I got ya on the phone and this could be the last voice you hear, I want you to know I empathize with you. What a way to go, huh? Salad!? Who knew you could die from salad?

Here you were reading about the culture of video games and sports, also Dan Harmon’s unfortunate departure from one of your [supposed] favorite television shows*. Which by the way, you could stand to catch up on a few episodes, dude you’re like a season behind. And let’s just say, time is of the essence when it comes to you, like, existing.

Sure Community has been telling the same nerdy jokes for the past couple years, but you are a nerd and hey, you like those kinds of jokes, right? I mean, Girls is a cool new show. The writing is honest. But you still have misgivings about telling people how attractive and unattractive you find all the characters. What’s with that? Do you like, hate women or something?

Speaking of that, I know it’s not the best time, especially since you’re kinda dying from the stuff we sold you for … geez the past couple years, huh? Your mom is getting worried. I mean, she’s proud of you for putting on the facade of a responsible adult, but come on man...where are those grandkids and lavish gifts? Where is that girlfriend she gets along with? She slaved away for decades just for you to give up on computer science and become some sort of bookstore employed, maladjusted artist? At least you might not have to worry about that next Thanksgiving conversation, right?

Also, probably a good idea to delete all the nun porn and mean letters to exes nested deep within the recesses of your hard drive. An early death from salad is depressing enough without people finding out these little nuggets of your personality.

Knowing that you don’t believe in a particular god or afterlife, but don’t claim to be an Atheist, I’m kinda at a loss as to how one ends this kind of conversation. A simple ‘my bad’ doesn’t seem to cut it.

How about this. If in the event you indeed die from the stuff you thought might lessen the chances of, what I’m sure will be a hilarious death -- your mom has a case to sue Giant Eagle? Though there are plenty of cases in which ‘the little guy’ sues a lawyer-heavy corporation. Resulting in the little guy spiraling into deep debt and depression, something I know your mom already has plenty of, she stands a small chance of winning. So, yeah, there’s that.

Oh, shoot! I, uh, have like hundreds of people to call and this took up a lot more time than I expected. If you do actually survive this bout of dizziness and blood-infused diarrhea, don’t let this discourage you from shopping at our stores. Looking at other stores [local and chains] with that ‘is there any chance for me to find a store that provides me with something that won’t kill me?’ look. Newsflash: Nope.

Life is for the living kid, and you probably don’t have that many ticks left in your ticker. So, in essence, it’s totally okay that you destroyed a package of Oreos after you ate that salad.

I bet you feel all better now.**”

*I guess he’ll learn not to ever expose Chevy Chase’s crotchety nature. Even if Chevy Chase is actually crotchety in nature.

**You know what? I kinda do.