Fork You...

I love the fork. It’s really as simple as that. I love it so much that I have difficulty eating anything without one. A few of you out there are nodding your heads right now saying to yourself, “yeah – he IS odd like that” and maybe I am borderline OCD but I NEED the fork.

It’s gotta be like my mealtime security blanket. With the fork in hand – I can handle anything from the Colonel’s Extra Greasy to a Fuddrucker’s half-pounder. Sandwich and platters alike – you need a fork. What’s that? The sandwich is a two-hander? No problem. Cut the bugger in half and don the fork.
“Why fork?” The main reason we use a fork nowadays is either to not burn our fingers on warm food, or simply be a little more civilized than our Middle Ages knife and spoon predecessors. Me? I use it to keep at least one hand clean.
“Why keep one hand clean? Is this topic getting kinky?” No. It’s simple. You have a drink, right? If you’re slobbing it up and you need to take a swig of that nice cold root beer – you don’t want to slime up your glass. You’ll just get your hand dirty again when you take your next drink. Bummer. Also – suppose you’re chowing down and you spot Lisa Marie over by the raw bar. It would be bad taste to have a flavored handshake after you drop everything to go run and meet her.
How about to simply answer the phone? Yeah – you WANT BBQ sauce on yer brand new Motorola…
Use the fork… Love the fork…