Elgin has a history of chewing wood. Need a bit of convincing? Find the chewed up pieces of wood in the following photos: (Think of this as a brain exercise like Where’s Waldo or those hidden image pictures in Hi-Life Magazine only instead of searching for a gangly geek in a tuque and a striped shirt or a unicorn and a cup and saucer hidden in the scene you will only find the frustration and existential angst I experience due to owning a bulldog.)
So, when we returned from Austin and brought the dogs home from our buddy Chris’s house Elgin had apparently picked up a new bizarre habit. The minute she entered the house she ran to the kitchen and began chewing on the metal drawer beneath the oven. (More specifically, on the cut-out part of the drawer that comprises the built-in handle.)
Now, understand that after spending any amount of time in Chris’s presence anyone, man or beast, will more than likely come away a changed creature. Chris has always been my token “funky” friend. He’s spent time in jail for a crime I’m not sure the nature of but I know it involved managing an all-nude strip club, allegedly running drugs for the Mexican mafia and driving his ’88 Ford Escort at 70 mph (a feat in and of itself). He once dated a girl who, during the course of their relationship, was eventually convicted of resisting arrest, 10 counts of intent to assault with a dangerous weapon, reckless driving and mail fraud (all for one incident). This is interesting on its own however he was also dating her best friend at the time. His reasoning—one had a car but no license and the other had a license but no car so it was an ideal situation. (Perfect that is until the women found out about his indiscretions and he lost not only both his girlfriends but also a great deal of his belongings.). Lastly, he has covered the walls of his room with various Simpsons action figures (still in the original packaging, of course). Did I mention he is 37 years old? In order to provide a few examples of the funkiness that is Chris I will share the following stories.
We used to have movie nights at our old house which involved 5-6 of us getting together to watch really bad horror movies, get drunk and eat take-out. At least 2 or 3 of our friends would end up passing out on in the guest room or on the couch which always made for an interesting morning. Anyway, one of those mornings as we all congregated in the kitchen around the coffee pot, Chris suddenly said, “I had a dream last night that I was Jack Bauer from that show “24.” It was really great except that I knew that somewhere in a parallel universe there was this guy Kiefer Sutherland who was acting out my life on a television show and that in reality my own life was being orchestrated by writers in some office somewhere. So basically I was aware that my universe was just a figment of someone else’s imagination which just took the fun out it.” We stood there sort of staring at him, trying to figure out what to say when he turned away to go back to the couch and remarked, “At least it was just a dream, I KNOW the person who dreamed up the world that all of us live in and trust me, you don’t want to live with that truth.”
One last example of Chris’s more, ahem, “creative side” is the time The Brit and I brought the realtor over to our townhome in Mesa which were renting to Chris. We were getting ready to sell it and had informed Chris of the time and nature of our visit. He said it was fine, that he would be at work so just lock the doors when we were finished. The house was in fine shape; typical bachelor pad consisting of a big TV, minimal furniture and a liquor bottle collection in the kitchen.
The master bathroom centered on quite a different theme. Next to the sink, surrounded by colored condoms was a car freshener emblazoned with the motto, “I Lick Lesbians.” Farther back, semi-hidden by various bottles of shampoo and hand soap, was a black leather riding crop. A look at the nearby spa tub revealed a huge bottle of Mr. Bubble and 2 large-sized troll dolls; one dressed in a nurse’s uniform, the other au natural. Thankfully, the realtor pretended not to notice anything but the “architectural details” of the room. There are many, many more examples of the uniqueness that is Chris but for now let us just say that he is a true individual and it is entirely plausible that anyone would walk away with an altered outlook on life after spending time with him.
Anyway, back to Elgin. She continued with the drawer chewing for a couple days and I initially chalked it up to the Chris-effect until I opened the drawer to take out a cookie sheet and found it covered in bits of dried chicken and a whitish substance that looked like it may have been cheese in a past life. “What the hell is this?” I muttered then looked up to see The Brit pretending to be overwhelmingly interested in the show playing on the TV. I knew he was up to something because he would never voluntarily watch “What Not To Wear” much less actually find it engaging once it was on.
“So, do you have something you want to tell me?” I asked. “Oh, yeah well, I uh, well, last week I was cooking one of those frozen bbq chicken pizzas and well, when I went to take it out of the oven it must not have been completely cooked because it kind of folded over the oven rack and I guess some of the toppings must have slid down into the oven drawer.” I gave him my best lazy bastard guilt trip (shaking of the head, snort through the nose and slightly squinted eyes) and he escaped upstairs to “do some stuff on the computer.” Later that week he presented me with the cell phone I have had my eye on so the guilt trip obviously worked. As for Elgin, she no longer chews and licks the oven drawer but she still likes to chew wood and she continues to fall asleep with her head on my shoes so I’m not ready to let Chris off the hook just yet.
