Summer Food Vibes

Karsten looked through the cabinets above Bobby’s fridge. There was bread, gin, crackers, and flax seeds. He grabbed the gin, which was a giant spherical bottle with a corked top labeled Monkey 47, and placed it on the counter. It wasn’t what he was looking for, but it was booze. Cabinets on either side of the microwave were for plastic cups and glassware. Above the microwave, there were cartridges for the coffeemaker. A fly hovered in and out of the drain in the sink. The cabinets underneath the sink were for the pipes, dishwashing liquid, trash bags, and other essentials Karsten didn’t care about. Drawers to the right of the sink had playing cards. Beneath those drawers were the cabinets for paper cups, paper plates, and regular plates.

“Bobby,” Karsten looked over the counter. Bobby was on the patio with Holden. “Where are your spices.”

“Anything I got will be above the fridge.”

“All I found was flaxseed.”

“There’s got to be more than that.”

There was indeed more than flax seed. Behind the bread and crackers were pumpkin seeds. Karsten wasn’t sure if either of those qualified as spices, but he didn’t think so.

“Bobby, all I found was pumpkin seeds”

“Yeah, that’s all I got.”

“Don’t you have like salt or pepper?”

“No.”

“How do you not have salt or pepper?”

“I just don’t, ok?”

Karsten stood up and faced the kebobs and brats. The kebobs were skewered with beef, potatoes, and peppers. The brats were a milky white; Bobby boiled them in Michelob Ultra—he claimed it gave them a sweeter taste. Although there was no salt or pepper, there were three jugs of Olive Oil. That was enough for something.

The toilet flushed, there was a quick spritz of the faucet, and Tommy emerged from the toilet. His dark hair flared outwards in all directions, like Chuckie’s from Rugrats.

“Bro, did Tommy forget the salt and pepper?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t think he had any to begin with.”

Tommy twirled a Kebob in the foil container. “I don’t think they’ll taste that bad. I know he’s got like barbeque sauce in the fridge.”

“There’s like three bottles of Olive Oil near the stove. Not even bottles. Gallon jugs.” Karsten turned and showed Tommy the cabinets near the oven. “Why does someone need so much Olive Oil?”

“To cook a lot of food?”

Karsten took one of the empty bottles and poured it onto the kebobs.

Tommy washed his circle glasses in the sink, “What are they doing on the patio?”

“I think there are women out there.”

Tommy grabbed the bottle of gin and poured himself a drink.

*

The smell of sunscreen cascaded through Karsten’s central nervous system. Most of his friends used sunscreen spray. Holden was the only one to rub sunscreen on his nose, and he didn’t attempt to rub it into his skin.

They took their shirts off in the living room. Karsten was lanky. Tall, but in no way thick. Holden was somewhat thin, at least a few pounds under two hundred. His nut-brown skin was subdued under the patio lighting. Tommy and Bobby were well over two hundred. When they took their shirts off, there were these deep creases between the muscles in their back, and their shoulders popped out like great subterranean beasts breaking surface. Bobby was close to a six-pack. Had he a better diet, there’d certainly be one.

He even told Karsten this, “Bro, if my diet wasn’t Chipotle bowls like every day, I’d have a six-pack.”

Karsten replied, “That’s nice.”

Karsten skin was like thin paper. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. Yet there was arm fat that flailed from his bones.

Karsten’s blonde hair was thicker than Bobby’s. Rogaine on the bathroom counter and in Bobby’s medicine cabinet gave him some peace of mind. Karsten shut the medicine cabinet silently.

There was a lot of noise from the other side of the door, and the door was closed, but the second door down the hallway of the bathroom that connected the closet and shower to the bedroom stood open. Karsten could see Bobby’s bed. Therefore, he closed the medicine cabinet silently. Plus, the bathroom doors of this complex weren’t soundproof. Neither were the front doors of the apartments. Every time Karsten walked down the hallway to reach Bobby’s apartment, someone had the television running, or there were women talking, or some party transpiring. Once in a while the whir of the bathroom fan while someone was taking a dump. Bobby’s bathroom fan didn’t work, so there was that.

Bobby was spraying sunscreen on himself in the family room.

“I’m not going to wait an hour before I jump in.” Tommy admired his chiseled arms on the outside patio. Bobby handed him the sunscreen. Tommy removed his circular glasses from his face to apply sunscreen.

Holden gave Karsten a thumbs up. “Ready to feast?”

When they were all lathered up, they ate at a wooden table near the stone grills of Bobby’s backyard.

They didn’t need more than barbeque sauce for the kebobs. There was enough sodium to begin with. That’s what Bobby said. “Plus, I workout a lot. I don’t need more salt in my diet.” Then he admitted, “I dunno why I don’t buy it when I go to the store.”

For the brats, they ate them with mayonnaise and shredded cheese. The Michelob Ultra the brats were boiled in gave them a sweet flavor, like there were sweet peppers in the meat. The cheese added to the sweet with a little bit savory. And the mayonnaise gave them a clean, custardy texture.

Bobby told them to spread mayonnaise on the inside of the bun first, then sprinkle shredded cheese into the bun, followed by the brat on top. Mustard came last, which he hid in the back of his fridge.

The sesame buns they used were the expensive brand from Fry’s.

They drank beer straight from the glass, even though glass was prohibited in the pool area.

And each of them slowly blacked out.