For breakfast this morning, a treat: Heinz Baked Beans on toast. I walked into the kitchen of my fantastic, spotlessly clean little Rotorua hostel and started to prepare my little taste of home. It’s a meal that usually produces the same reaction; a kind of open mouthed ‘What’s she eating? That? For breakfast?’ stare and accompanying comments from anyone who isn’t from the UK, to whom beans on toast is a breakfast anomaly.
As I turned from the microwave, I saw her. Standing by the work surface, a girl who wasn’t fascinated by my breakfast. Must be British. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, dragging her fingers through her wet hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her letting the stray clumps she’d gathered fall onto the floor. My nose wrinkled of it’s own accord. I turned around and watched as she did it again; depositing another handful of hair strands onto the floor.
My mouth opened before my brain could stop it.
“Nice.” I said, furrowing my eyebrows at the stranger.
“What?” she replied.
“Just putting your hair all over the kitchen floor. That’s nice.”
“It’s just a few strands” then, a delay before “At least it’s clean”. I raised my eyebrows and sniffed back a laugh.
“Mate” I sighed, turning around to face her as the protests continued, “I’m just saying. You’re putting hair everywhere by doing that. There’s people making food, they don’t want your hair in it.”
With a final huff and puff, Wet Hair Girl strode out of the room. Amused at my own inability to shut the hell up, and her inability to see why spreading your hair – clean or otherwise – over the floor isn’t the most hygienic course of action in a communal kitchen, I started buttering my toast.
About five minutes passed. As I grating cheese onto my freshly heated baked beans when I heard the kitchen door open.
“What about the flies?” said a voice.
Oh, for gods sake. Here we go.
“What?!” I said, sounding bored and turning once again to see Wet Hair Girl, sporting the smug beginnings of a face that looked suspiciously like it had spent the last few minutes in a dorm room, brooding and constructing a response.
“The flies!” she said, with a slightly deranged look in her eyes. “What about the flies! They’re dirty and in the kitchen! What about them!”
“I’m sorry…” I replied, trying to suppress a grin, “Are we still on this? Because this conversation was like…at least five minutes ago.”
“Yes! We are!”
“Ok.” I said, thinking how much better my beans would taste with a glop of ketchup on the side, “Well, that’s cool. You think about it some more. I’m going to eat my breakfast.”
And with that, me and my easily irritated brain went to the TV room and filled my big, unthinking mouth with toast, beans and (hair free) grated cheese.
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13 comments:
1. *Applauds*
2. Ketchup? No no. HP sauce on yer cheesy beans on toast, girl. Don't knock it till you've tried it.
3. *fights cravings for cheesy beans and HP sauce on toast... eats some more fermented cabbage and raddish cubes... sigh*
I think we need to be very careful. Some things are far too important to be rushed into. Considering the sensibilities of other people is secondary to our own sense of well-being, but we need to be safe, sure and secure in our own world.
Therefore my carefully considered thoughts on the most important thread here is:
Ketchup. Or HP. Or Ketchup. Or HP. Either, definitely. Both, never.
Are you sure she wasn't American? Sounds like one of ours.
You're fancy. You are now visiting places that I've never heard of, nor can pronounce properly.
She might have had nits too, in fact, I'm certain she does.
I presumed beans on toast was a staple diet the world over. Some people are obviously missing out.
It's got to be HP on the beans though.
See! See! They agree - no to ketchup and beans! HP I can see, but mayo all the way.
As for sick hairy girl... Well done you.
Hails- They don't even have ketchup here, it's 'tomato sauce' so HP is out of the question!
Brennig - Ketchup. Or, failing that, tomato sauce (see above)
Unbearable - Definitely a Brit with American tendencies. ie. a right pain in the arse. Useless fact: Rotarua smells of egg.
Cynical - The nit thing did actually cross my mind, but given the turn the conversation was taking, I thought it best to leave that little nugget of info in my head.
Roseski - MayoNO! No no no! It'll make the beans look all funny :(
roseski - Ketchup works, HP works, but mayo...with beans on toast? Somebody call the food police, you don't deserve taste buds!
Cyn, you may have hit the nail on the head. Perhaps roseski doesn't have taste buds!
:-)
I'm not a mayo fan. It scares me the way it's all creamy. The yellow label. Brr.
I SO have taste buds!
You shouldn't have any table sauces with baked beans. It's wrong. They are already in bean juice.
*nods gravely*
Did she pick up her hair after your comment?
Roseski - Debateable.
Blue soup - I've heard that arguement before, but I like something to dip left over toast in. And no, she didn't pick up the hair. I'm hoping it landed in her dinner later that day.
Have just been told by a "real life" friend that my mayonnaise use is "inappropriate" and abnormal. I felt the need to come back and apologise - I clearly have distorted taste buds and won't argue my abnormal tastes with you again!
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