Who Made the Salad?

I keep telling people that I should not be allowed into the kitchen for anything more complicated than a bowl of Cheerios(tm), but nobody believes me. "Oh, you just need practice!" "It's so easy!" Etc, etc, yadda yadda yadda. The following tale should illustrate just how wrong that is.

A few years back, I moved into a new place with a new roommate. We decided to have a bunch of people over for dinner one night. My roommate was handy in the kitchen, so I kept myself busy and out of the way by setting the table and other stuff like that. After awhile though, all the make-busy stuff was done, and I started to feel guilty that he was doing all the work. So in a moment of weakness, I asked if there was something I could do to help out.

"Sure! You can make the salad!"

I tore into the task with vigor! After all, how can you screw up a salad? I wash the tomatoes and lettuce, rip the head of lettuce to shreds, slice the tomatoes, and dump the whole mess into a big bowl. It was a damn fine looking salad, and I was mighty proud of myself.

After bit, the guests arrive, and we all sit down and start eating. Then one of them asks "Who made the salad?"

I puffed up proudly and said "I made the salad!".

He then showed me the tomato slice on the end of his fork and said "You're supposed to remove the price tags from the tomato before you slice it."

So the next time you think about asking me for help in the kitchen, or think about telling me how easy it is to fix stuff, remember this True Tale of Joe.

Abuse me for I love it so.
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