Food Pervert?

The label on the 2.5lb bag of baby spinach that sits in our fridge reads "young and tender". And by the nature of the leaves and how they change color and shape when cooked, this spinach is also impressionable.

I kind of feel bad eating it now, because it's young and impressionable. Who am I to take advantage of a defenseless piece of spinach in its youth? Further, since its packaging describes it as "tender", it apparently has a softer, emotional personality. I hate to think of what might be going through the mind of a piece of that spinach, as it swirls around in my belly with some chicken and a few mushrooms. As it mixes with acids and bile, will it regret the decision it made not too long ago to be a follower and allow itself to be mass-packaged and ultimately consumed by me, so violently?

Poor spinach...so young, so tender...it had so much promise.

I'd now like to post a series of emails that have been transpiring this morning between myself and an older, sarcastic gentleman that I work with currently. This all started because I had to reschedule a philanthropic event that I had put together at a local food bank...I'll be out of town for the originally scheduled date. Anyway, here goes:

Email #1, from Mike:

Chad has to go out of town...for what?? A spa weekend??? Antiqueing??? An art trip to Provincetown??? Lets just tell the hungry people that next week they may have a better chance to eat.....nice.

Email #2, from me:

I'm actually spearheading a panel discussion out in Malibu that weekend on the correlation between baldness and social ineptitude. I'll be sure to keep you abreast of the results, my folically challenged friend.

Email #3, from Mike:

I am married, I have a good looking wife, a big house, a riding lawnmower, two beautiful girls and 3 toilets. Does it really matter what I look like anymore??? I think not. Beauty fades....porcelain toilets and having a family that loves you is what endures.....who loves you Chad??? Who??? Thought so....

Email #4, from me:

Boy, thanks for the reality check. I apparently no longer have a reason to live. Farewell world...

Email #5, from Mike:

We will miss you.....are you going to leap from the top of the Round Up at the Topsfield Fair this weekend???

I'm going with the girls. See you at the Anna's Fried Dough Stand.

Email #6, from me:

Aha...a topic I actually have been meaning to discuss with a fellow North Shorerererer. Should I bother with it this year? Should I subject my young, pretty girlfriend to the riff raff that is represented at the Fair? Maybe she'd like to make out atop the ferris wheel, where so many before have tried to round first base and get to second, only to fail miserably and drop their piece of fried dough into the hay-blanketed grass below.

And the final email, from Mike:

You know you really aren't at the Topsfield Fair if you don't go through the woods, jump the creek which will be 100% dry this year and sneak over or through the fence.

She will love that!!!!!

There you have it. Hope I've wasted a good chunk of your time this Friday morning. Please, enjoy your weekend, Go Umass - Beat BC, and Go Sox, clinch the FUCKING PENNANT.