I Witnessed a Miracle. Or Maybe It Was a Dog

by Fred Prout

Here at the home for senior delinquents, we have two great chefs. Charlie and The Duke. Not the tall white hat chefs. The sit down and have a conversation chefs. A few days ago, one of our menu choices was a philly cheesesteak sandwich. I started salivating once I saw the weekly menu.

Now, as I am originally an east coast guy, I knew it wouldn’t be a PHILLY philly cheesesteak sandwich, but a good one nonetheless. Well, the long awaited day finally arrived. Rush through soup and salad, and here it comes. Beef piled high, cheese oozing from every pore of the fresh hoagie. Tender beef…ohhhh. Did I mention the cheese?

My table mates and I knew how to deal with this gustatory delight. 1. Pick up sandwich. 2. Take a goodly chomp and start chewing. 3. Put sandwich back on plate. 4. Put fingers in mouth (one at a time please) and recover any cheese coating same. 5. Repeat several times.

I was midway in ecstatically enjoying step 4, when I looked up, and noticed the four senior ladies at the next table. I was stunned. A miracle. Not only did they totally eliminate step 4, but they took an estimated seven hundred eighteen nibbles to finish off an eight chomp sandwich. It was amazing. They appeared to have not an iota of cheese on their hands. When they finished, they daintily blotted their lips with a tissue and continued chattering. A tissue you ask? Our napkins are made of a material specially designed to smear anything it touches. Soak them for a week and they will probably stay dry. I have in the past, exaggerated. A little. Maybe.

No sense witnessing a miracle if you don’t spread the word. So, next day, I questioned the chefs. Did the ladies have a different sandwich than the rest of us? They both denied giving the ladies a special, no mess sandwich. I believe them. Because I know them to be honest. I am also no fool. After much discussion and speculation, we decided it must be a true miracle. Or there was a dog under the table, having one hell of a good time.

When I asked the ladies about it, they all smiled coyly, and said they had no idea what I was talking about. People say that a lot.

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8 Responses to I Witnessed a Miracle. Or Maybe It Was a Dog

  1. Kathleen Stugelmeyer says:

    A per usual wonderful article

  2. Eric says:

    Kinda like eating a plum with aplomb.

  3. Joan Larson says:

    Bravo! For a Philly sandwich I’ll sit at your table!

  4. Peggy Russell says:

    I’m thinkin’ it was Kelly !

  5. Donna Dee says:

    Now you’ve made me hungry!! I need a cheese oozing Philly now….

  6. Val Carano says:

    Your story was wonderful as always Fred. Would you believe I have never had a Philly Cheese Steak sandwich?! I also never had a Sausage & Peppers Wedge. And guess what! … I have never had a Smores either. The first one … contains peppers I think. The second one … peppers again … no thanks! As for the Smores … I was never in a situation where they were offered … but I know I’d LOVE them!

  7. Edith Vondall says:

    again thanks Fred.

  8. Jackie Jones. says:

    Bravo Fred, and as I am from PA. I make a killer, Philly Cheese Steak. I will make you one this summer. If it’s not messy, it’s not an original. Hugs to you and Kelly.

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