The Death of Strawberry Milkshakes

The other night, my second job - the job I actually like - ruined one of my favorite desserts.

Farewell, old friend.

During the day, I do low-level accounting work for the State of Texas.  It's pretty mind-numbing.  But by night, I fight crime as a mysterious masked hero known as the Dark Raven moonlight as an MLT (Medical Lab Technician), testing people's blood.  I love it.  Unlike my day job, it's all sciencey and engaging.

The only time it's not an awesome job is when I get a panic result.  Not that I panic.  Yes, I suddenly realize that now, a person's life is actually in my hands, and I have to rerun the test to make sure it really is panic-worthy and not a machine going crazy, and then I have to call the doctor, and all the time I feel just slightly guilty because there's a very, very small chance the patient is already dead, and they might have still been alive if I had come into work at 7:30 instead of 9:30, although that's never happened, but it could, and then I worry about what happens if the doctor doesn't answer and I have to leave a message, what if I should have looked up another number and gotten in touch that way to save someone's life, and then I call the doctor and he angrily asks me why I'm reporting a life-threatening result at this time of night.

But I don't panic.  I naturally have the calm facade of an action hero.

Me in a crisis.

The other night, I got a panic result from an unforgettable specimen.  It was a sight that would haunt me for the remainder of my days.

Serum is blood with the fibronigens - the white and red cells and the clotting factors - separated.  The serum, on top, is generally a translucent yellowish liquid without the red cells.

On occasion, it's reddish, meaning it's hemolized - the red blood cells ruptured.  And if the patient didn't fast before having the blood drawn, it's lipemic - foggy, opaque, occasionally milky.  But the vast majority looks like that: clean and healthy.

The other night, one of my specimens looked like this:

Blood isn't supposed to look like that.  That isn't supposed to course through human veins.

That blood haunted me all night.  All I could think, the entire evening, was Somewhere, somebody out there has a strawberry milkshake for blood.

Their regular blood?  Yeah, it looked like that, too.

I love strawberry milkshakes.  Make it from actual strawberries, and I'll take it over cake and most pies.  It is simply the best.  But now, I can never have it again.

Because I know somewhere out in the darkness, a man walks with strawberry milkshake flowing through his arteries, coursing his veins, refreshed by his heart.  These images, these feelings have the visceral impact on my normally composed psyche (see photo above) of that spider-head from The Thing.  Except this actually exists.  This man actually walks amongst us.  This monstrous, grotesque parody of humanity walks among us.  I could pass him on the street every day.  I could work with him at the state.  He might live in my very apartment complex, in my very building.  He might be at my door, right now...

I didn't look at the name on the serum.  I daren't.  After all, I already know who it is.  It's the Dark Raven's arch-nemesis, the Fanged Coyote, who spreads chaos and fear through the streets of Austin, trying to destroy me psychically, piece by piece It can be none other than the ghost of Daniel Plainview.

If he can't drink your milkshake, he'll make damn sure you don't enjoy it yourself.

And that is the story of how my night job unrepentantly murdered the Strawberry Milkshake.

But I swear, my old friend, you shall be avenged...

Pizza is Awesome

Pizza is, by definition, a flat, circular bread oven-baked and then topped with various delectable additions, such as tomato sauce, cheese, pepperoni, anchovies, and castor oil. It is also, by definition, the greatest food in existence, and is listed as one of mankind’s seven most wondrous inventions, alongside the wheel, the harnessing of electrical power, and space travel. Truly, Pizza is awesome.

Amongst its most obvious wonders is its taste. The crust, the very pizza itself, oven-baked and shaped as a plate for the toppings, can be cooked to either a crunchy, elegant hardness or into a loose, chewy softness; both are nothing short of pure joy and happiness once inside of your mouth. Above it is laced with bountiful sauce taken from tomatoes, or perhaps even tomatoes themselves. And above all, that most ancient of delicacies, a marvel predating the earliest histories… cheese. It is this combination that gives such beauty and such bounty.

But it is far, far more than simply a tasty treat. Where the awesomeness of pizza truly begins to shine is in its health benefits. There are those who rebut that pizzas can, in fact, be high in fat content. We call such people “spoilsports”. Their statements are misleading; while there is some fat content, there is, in fact, more than twice as much protein in pizza as there is fat. And the fat can’t possibly be that bad for you. For example, fat in pizza only accounts for 5% of my own personal gut. (the other 95% being the Dr. Peppers I drink with said pizzas)

But it goes beyond simple nutrition facts. In fact, doctors in Europe have found that people who eat pizza once a week are at a lower risk of cancer. That’s right: pizza is the cure for cancer.

Yet, we are not finished, for the benefits of pizza go beyond even personal health. It brings people together. In the late 1800s, as the Italian Queen Margherita wandered the streets of her cities, she noticed the special breads the lower classes all ate. Eventually, she ordered her servants to fetch her a piece of the bread. The other members of the upper class were shocked that she would eat the food of the peasants, but she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. A cheesy, delicious, pizza-flavored flame. She loved it. She insisted it be delivered to her court, and eventually, cooked by her personal chef. While at first those of the upper class scoffed at the peasant food, eventually, they tried it and found that these peasants had discovered a piece of heaven here on earth. At last, the upper and lower classes had something in common. Besides being human. (usually)

But that is only a sample of its powers of joy and peace. You need look no further than a half-century further on, when pizza spread from Italy to Western Europe and into America. As it spread, peace followed it; for the first time in recorded history, the West was at peace with itself; while the East warred on, drawing ever closer to their attempts to destroy the world. The West had pizza. The East didn’t. Coincidence? I think not.

Look beyond, then, to the future. As this miracle spreads throughout civilization, we will, eventually, grow closer and closer together. Pizza will create world peace.

Best of all, though, Baron von Ricthovan approves. Consider that, my friends. Consider that.

And there you have it – the awesomenss of pizza boiled down to its essence: it is the most extraordinary taste, the greatest possible boost to your health short of celery and apple juice three times daily, the cure for cancer, and the creator of world peace. It is not only the greatest food in the world, but it is everything good and wonderful humanity has ever done, magnificently constructed and perfectly baked. Pizza truly deserves the title, indeed defines the word, awesome.