Published: September 05, 2008 01:24 pm            

TOM LAVIS | Soggy buns didn't warrant peppered retort

BY TOM LAVIS

TLAVIS@TRIBDEM.COM

Organizers of area Labor Day weekend festivals are basking in the success of another triumphant year.

Extraordinary weather, families returning to the region for one last summer fling and residents on “staycation” all but guaranteed huge turnouts.

As you can tell from my picture posted above my column, I’m a man who enjoys ethnic food.

I don’t care if its from Hungary or Turkmenistan, there’s always a dish worth sampling.

I was flattered when several people approached me while I was dining at an area festival to ask if I was the guy who wrote the column in the newspaper.

A woman approached my table and wanted to know if the couple seated across from us was Crutch Crupnik and his wife.

The couple in question stared at us with a distrustful look, but didn’t comment.

“No, Crutch will not be joining me for dinner tonight,” I told the kindly lady, who apologized for interrupting my meal.

Crutch has become somewhat of an icon since I’ve revealed some of his blunders in this column, so why should I stop now?

I was being honest when I told the woman that Crutch would not be joining my wife and me for dinner.

However, I bent the truth a tad.

Crutch and his wife actually were seated at a table two rows behind us. They didn’t want a repeat of last year’s fiasco.

We took the Crupniks to the same festival to enjoy great music and ethnic food.

As dinnertime rolled around, Crutch declared he had a hankering for a hot sausage sandwich, with all the trimmings.

We picked up our trays and prepackaged eating utensils and went through the cafeteria-style setup and ordered our food.

“Can I have some extra onions and green peppers?” Crutch asked the lady behind the counter.

The lady was also more than generous with the tasty sauce because it soaked through the sandwich bun.

Anyone who has unraveled prepackaged eating utensils knows they usually come with a napkin and packets of salt and pepper.

Because Crutch was hungry, he placed his monumental sandwich on his tray to get a better grip. As he raised the sandwich to his mouth, I noticed the salt and pepper packets were sticking to end of the soggy roll, which was about to disappear down Crutch’s gullet.

I had a mouthful of pierogi and I couldn’t warn my friend about what he was about to consume.

All I could do was point, but to no avail.

Because of the generous amount of peppers and onions on his sandwich, Crutch opened his mouth like a yawning hippopotamus and took the first bite.

He chewed voraciously and started to swallow.

Judging from his bulging eyes and red face, I suspected he got the full brunt of the fiery sausage, zesty sauce and packaged spices.

His eyes got teary and he started to wave his hands as if he were trying to tell me something.

I started to laugh, but I wasn’t worried. Since he didn’t grip his throat with both hands, the universal sign of choking, I knew his spasm would not last long.

I pushed my drink in his direction, and he drained every drop of liquid from the cup.

“Man, that sausage sure is spicy,” he said as he regained his composure.

I informed him that he just ate two packets of extra seasoning.

“You’re supposed to take the spices out of the packets,” I said.

This time, he did flash me a universal sign, but it had nothing to do with choking.

        

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