18.3.15

the nonstick frying pan

There it lay, soaking in a bath of oil and soap.

Great.

Then the door buzzer made an unattractive noise.

Who the hell could that be?

Giving the pan one last disapproving stare, she made her way to the front door and buzzed back.

"Hi, who is it?"

"It's Jennah. Let me in."

Buzz.

Of course it was Jennah. Who else would have the audacity to invite themselves over at such an hour? Jennah that's who. She probably brought her takeaway breakfast with her to eat here because notifying her would be host of her arrival during breakfast would be too much to ask, so best bring your own.

She unlocked the door ahead of time so it wouldn't disrupt Jennah's imminent waltz through her doorway and walked back into the kitchen. Since Jennah never ever warns her of her visits, she never ever greeted her at the door. Hovering over the sink, she took the spatula off its hook and whatever condiments she needed. Still hesitant of the oily, soapy, slippery pan drowning in its own muck, she went to the almost empty fridge and gazed down at her two remaining eggs. The last two eggs she'll have till her next visit to the shops. Better not screw up that pancake.

"Hey! Pancakes? Again? Don't you ever have something simple, like cereal?"

"That's a lot of questions for ten in the morning."

She took a quick glance of what Jennah had bought for her breakfast.

"McDonalds? Again? Don't you ever go somewhere different, like Starbucks?"

"I'd have you know that I order a different breakfast meal every time and they actually make a better cup of coffee than Starbucks ever will."

She rolled her eyes and nodded in false agreement.

"You know, I feel bad for always coming up unannounced. Here, allow me." Jennah scurried to the sink and picked up the pan with her bare hands. Jennah seemed familiar with what she was doing and what kind of host would take away the freewill of a guest? She turned her back to pick up a plate piled up in a box by the counter. When all of a sudden she heard the heartbreaking scratching sound of wire and metal. Springing to her toes, she leaned over Jennah to see her scrubbing her only nonstick pan with those wire scrunchies.

"Noooooooo!" She whimpered without any notion of stopping Jennah and her heartless scrubbing.

"What? What?"

"Have you never washed a nonstick pan before? You're not suppose to scratch them with metal or wire!"

"As a matter of fact, I really haven't."

"What? So does your apartment just have poorly scratched pans? Cooking must be hell. Especially when you do the dishes."

"Aw, honey. I don't do chores." Jennah mentions as she rinses off the now clean but scarred pan and passes it.

"You don't do chores?"

"Yeah, man. I've always had help come over three times a week. Such a lifesaver. I'll share you her contact, no problem."

"Nah, that's fine. I like doing my own dishes."

Having help around the house would be great. A complete privilege. But that wasn't her. She did try once. She had hired a lovely woman called Glenda to come over on a Wednesday, but she was so ashamed of how messy the apartment was that she had tidied it up herself before Glenda even arrived. She called Glenda on Tuesday to cancel and that she was very, very sorry for any inconvenience caused.






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chapter six
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chapter five

chapter four
chapter three
chapter two

chapter one








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