Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Guaca wuaca wuaca guacamole

Ten years ago Jacob's sister was the stage manager for a small theatre company in Newton, Massachusetts. With connections like these, two poor, overworked and starved for entertainment college students known as Lolly and Jac gobbled up plays, musicals and the odd revue. If the tickets weren't free, they were half-priced and if they weren't half-priced, the parents (the same ones who kept us in Birkenstocks and a tiney apartment close to campus) took us to see the latest creation. And we all wore our dressy Birks. Sometimes with socks.

There was one musical that stays with me; it rears it's rhinestone-emblazened cowboy hat every so often. You see, there was this particular song that went something like this, "Guaca wauca wauca guacamole!" Sure, there was more to it, but that's all that I remember in vivid, technicolor detail. There's a heel touch involved and hands placed on tilted hips. It's a lively, happy memory of a time that was simple, quaint, consisting of late mornings and cold cereal: COLLEGE. And the good kind, not the graduate school kind. Deep sighing and glassy eyes implied.

Today when I realized that the lovely person who ordered lunch for my office mates and I included a condiment free option for Mikey's anti-condiment palate but neglected to include a vegetarian option for me, my 21 year old self reared up and declared the GUACA WUACA WUACA WUACCAAAMOLE a perfectly acceptable lunch. Eaten with a fork. Lolly loved every bite.

2 comments:

  1. That Mikey sounds like a real prima donna. You should punch him.

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  2. With hands fisted, fists on hips (my hips don't tilt -- at least not noticeably), right foot extend, heel to the ground and toe tapping, Birks in place (no socks it's too hot) head nodding, I declare -- GOOD FOR YOU, YOU TELL'EM!
    Love R.

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