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Cooler Ranch Doritos by the fistful
Thursday, February 12 2004
I went to Sharon Connecticut again today for another gig doing networking at WKZE. It wasn't a terribly cold day, so I could strip down to my waist before venturing into a particularly nasty crawlspace to pull Cat 5e cable.
The place was abuzz with activity because a minor-celebrity musician was there performing live on the Jimmy Buff show. I can't remember her name, but she was only 19 and had been on David Letterman. I'd heard a couple of her songs on the way over and one of them was really dreadful and the other was fairly good.
As always, there were plenty of snacks and pots of coffee available in the WKZE kitchen, and that mountain fresh aroma was hard to ignore. I was still suffering from caffeine withdrawal headaches, so I thought, what the hell, and poured myself a little cup of coffee. Oh, did that feel good! I think it even helped to quiet my still-restless lower esophagus. In general, though, there are only three activities that seem to have any calming effect on that rebellious tube of human meat. One is for me to lie down, another is for me to eat food, and the last is for me to be physically active (more physically active, say, than when I edit these .php pages).
One of the side effects of my esophageal disquiet is that it's become harder for me to determine when I'm hungry. The hunger pangs are lost in the noise. I know I'd eaten very little today, and on the way home from Sharon this evening my stomach felt like it was going to erupt with an alien. It seems the hunger pangs were being amplified by whatever the hell is wrong with me. So I pulled into a gas station and bought the food that I always buy when I'm experiencing a serious blood sugar drought: Cooler Ranch Doritos. I also bought a bottle of ginger ale, my first soft drink purchase in a very long time. The unsettling thing about Cooler Ranch Doritos is that after you've eaten several fistfuls, they start tasting exactly like hot dogs, and not in a good way.
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