For hours post omelette baguette

This is a strange little piece that I wrote after having eaten a baguette on psycadelics. I find it slightly amusing, because it's quite different to the very controlled things I usually write.

 I was never one to enjoy food.

Yes, I have been chubby. But I didn't enjoy the food that I ate. I ate for comfort at one point. How food can be comforting is beyond me, and yet in the past I found comfort in food. It's strange. Comfort... In food. It doesn't make sense.

But, having said that. Or written. Or is something "said", merely a term for something that has been put "out there"? Something that you can not take back, as soon as someone has heard, read or smelt it? Like perspiration, is that something "said" if it can be smelt? Is it unsaid if it has not been smelt? Would something spoken not be said, if it were not to be heard? Is it said if merely the sayer hears it? Is sleep talking without an audience technically unsaid? What is said? 

Is this off topic?

In a way I found hope in that baguette. It made me happy in a sense. The amazing taste, invading every gland in my mouth. I chewed slowly. I don't think I've ever chewed that slowly. I wasn't absentminded. Which I usually am while eating. When I eat I think about what I will do after eating, or of things that happened prior to the meal. I never think about the meal itself. I may at times consider the look of the plate, assessing if I think the food will be "good" or not. Isn't that absolutely and utterly stupid? Looking at the food, as if that would give an inkling to it's taste. How can I ever have mixed up my eyes with my taste? Something so simple, two senses that are completely unlinked. Or some wish to think that all the senses are linked. But to me, at this moment. I can not see the connection between what my eyes might make of something consumable and what my taste buds would think of that same thing. 

I have read about chefs that play with the mind in this way. Isn't it funny, how we can be mindfucked by thinking that there is something on our plate and then realizing that it is something completely different when we begin to devour it? I was once taken to an ice cream parlor in Berlin that makes ice cream look like popular dishes. Like something that would look like a pizza to the eye, but completely made out of ice cream. 

Anyway. That baguette gave me hope. I suffer with misery, my mind constantly playing games with me. Not letting me be. It imprisonates me. Yet, while eating this baguette, I was profusely happy. It tasted like nothing else I had ever eaten. And for each bite, the taste took me to new highes.

Shroom Amiga munched on a chicken baguette. I forgot to mention that we'd only got half a baguette each. I don't know if that actually makes a difference, but I'm pretty sure it does. 

The baguette contained lettuce, tomato, omelette and mayonnaise. I wondered at the time why omelette was portraited as the main ingrediant. There were equal amounts of the other ingredients too. Who am I kidding, I still wonder. I took one bite and as I gently chewed the content was divided throughout my mouth. The taste startled me. I chewed for a long time, fascinated. I stared at the baguette while chewing. Quietly giggling to myself in excitement over my discovery. I sat completely still on the log we had found at the side of the street. Holding my baguette with both hands, close to my chest. After a while I slowly looked up at Shroom Amiga. She was equally as enthralled by her baguette. I smiled as I watched her. 

She looked up at me. Her large brown eyes looked deer like as she whispered "this is... Amazing". She returned to her baguette. I looked at her a while longer before I also returned to stare at my baguette. Steve came and sat beside me. I looked at her blazing black hair and gently petted her head. "Heeey Steeeve", I cooed at her. She took in my face with her gentle large brown eyes. She did not condemn me, she had seen many people on shrooms. I think. After a while she glanced at my baguette, not speaking but saying enough. I tore a piece off and gave it to her. She glanced at me as she gently took the bread out of my hand. "Isn't it amaaaazing Steeeeve?". Steve looked at me while chewing. Her ears moving forward in that excited expression. I tossed her another piece of bread. "Yeah, I'm glaaad you agree Steeeeve". Shroom Amiga and I watched as Steve chewed. 

"Steve's a girl", Shroom Amiga said.

"I know. But she's a bit of a dyke", I replied after a long chewing session. 

"Yeah...", she nodded. I could tell she was about to go on. She took another bite.

We chewed for a while.

"She's got short hair", she finally added. We both rested our eyes on Steve. 

I hadn't consumed a quarter of my baguette and I kept my slow pace. At some point Shroom Amiga went hysterical as her baguette came to an end. 

"I want another", she said anxiously.

"Get another", I ordered.

"But... I'll regret it. I'll feel bad. I shouldn't. I won't", she hesitantly said as she stared longingly towards the lady making the baguette.

I could swear that she was slowly moving in the direction of the lady. But I couldn't be sure, I was too busy staring at the amazing thing between my hands.

"If you want a baguette, go and get a damn baguette. This is no time to forbid yourself something. We're in Vang Vieng, on mushrooms, have another baguette", I replied slightly agitated. 

"I'm not really that hungry...", she slowly said. I'm sure she'd moved toward the baguette lady at this point. 

"Be a man. F**k the calorie consequences. If your heart tells you to have a baguette, the baguette is there for you to have", I snarled.

"OK", she whispered. 

I heard her in an uneven voice order a baguette from the baguette lady. She stage whispered "with extra mayonnaise", while anxiously looking around her to see if someone would gasp at her sin. I shook my head at Steve, giggling. 

She took the baguette slowly from the lady and once she'd turned, she took a bite. "Oh my god", she whispered. Clutching the baguette. I was slowly licking the mayonnaise remains off the back of my teeth. I took another bite and slowly chewed. It was just as amazing as the first few bites. Steve hopped up behind me, licked my cheek and laid down with her back to mine. 

"Oooohhhooo Steve's geeeetting coozy. Watch out there girl, someone's after you", Shroom Amiga joked and laughed out loud, nearly tripping over herself. 

I glanced at Steve that rested her brown eyes on mine. The baguette was amazing. 

As the baguette came to an end I shared the last bite with Steve. I chewed at it for equally as long as the other bites. When I no longer had anything to chew, I smiled broadly. I was content. I sat for a long time talking to Steve. Telling her that she should go home, it was about time. 

We made our way back over the bridge that led to the bar we had been sat in. Everything was closed. We'd only just moved in to the second bar when we'd decided to get a baguette. We must have been gone for quite sometime. On our way back here, to the hostel, we heard music. We decided to follow the sound of the music. It led us to the reggae bar. There sat our third Shroom friend, he called out. "Where the f**k have you been! I thought you fell in the river!".

"We had the most amazing meal of all time", I excitedly responded. I couldn't wait to tell him about the baguette.

"What, for three hours?!", he said mistrusting.

"Three hours?", Shroom Amiga and I repeated and looked at each other smiling, knowingly. 

  

Author's Note

I'd rather not have comments from people anti-psycadelics. It was my first time, up until a year ago I would have spat and hissed at people mentioning drugs. Remember- never judge.

Reviews

[Rena]

Your writing style is interesting, and as someone who's never done drugs, it's a really fascinating peek into the mindset of someone half-hallucinating. I love the idea of the baguette giving hope. It's a nice thought. Well written, although I think a brief comb-through could really help tighten up the piece.