So I’m grilling a steak one night, got my bourbon in hand, had a hit and I’m feeling just fine, thank you very much. All is good in the world. The steak is sizzling and I see some flames pop up here and there but think nothing of it. My grill isn’t exactly the cleanest one on the planet. It’s basically a three alarm fire waiting to happen. The flames start getting bigger and a little more unmanageable so I do what I always do when this happens. Panic. Turn off the burners, turn off the tank, take a couple of steps back and just stare at this grill on fire with my phone ready to call the fire department. It occurs to me that there is a gas filled bomb under the grill as I’m standing 3 feet away so I back up a bit.
The gas is off and the flames aren’t going away. This can’t be good. They had this high pitched weird sound to them. Then they got taller and skinnier and looked like they were doing this strange dance. I knew what was happening here. This thing is possessed so I call the grill hotline and the first thing I hear is “Your call is very important to us. A representative will be with you shortly.” Shit, I’m screwed. I’ve heard these words before. Luckily I get to speak with someone after only a few minutes and I hear “Hello, my name is Kevin. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” I’m about to be attacked by a grill, Kevin. I need a grill exorcist now. “ Ok, I can help you with that. Do you have a gas or charcoal grill?” I have a gas grill. “Oh, I’m sorry. I only handle charcoal grills. I’m going to put you on hold for just a moment so I can direct your call to the proper person.” The grill is starting to move, Kevin. Get me someone now!
A minute later, “Hello, my name is Jack. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” I’m about to be engulfed in flames, Jack. Let’s skip the pleasantries, ok? I need an exorcist. “I’m sorry but we can’t get anyone there tonight. I can schedule someone to be there between 8 and 11 tomorrow if that works for you.” Not good enough, Jack. I’ve got a real problem here. “I’m sorry but that’s the best I can do.”
As I hang up the phone in a fit, I remember it’s Good Friday. I’m not a religious guy but I think there’s some rule that says I can’t eat meat on Good Friday so I google “Can I eat meat on Good Friday?” and it says “For Catholics observing Good Friday, the answer is no. The Catholic law of abstinence says that Catholics aged 14 and older refrain from eating meat on Good Friday.”
Ok, I’m Catholic, I see Good Friday on the calendar so guess I’m observing it and I’m just a bit older than 14. Why 14? What’s so special about 14? Most Catholic children receive their First Communion when they’re about eight because this is considered the age of reason. So I have the ability to reason at 8 but I don’t have the ability to make a reasonable decision to eat a steak until I’m 14? I realize I’m getting a little sidetracked and don’t have time to dissect the laws of the Catholic church so I grab the steak, pull it off the grill and the flames disappear.
I stand there frozen just staring at the grill. I guess I can do without a steak for one day of the year…