Last night, my roommate and I were watching Planet Earth, an activity we’ve taken a great liking to. For 60-90 minutes, typically once a week, we escape from the hustle and bustle to a world unknown to us. I won’t go into much detail on Planet Earth right now, but it’s worth your time and attention. Anyway, as I was saying… Hours had passed since we ate dinner. We had chicken burgers (hot cherry peppers, spinach, cheese, bread crumbs), broccoli rabe, and prosciutto bread. Wow, what a spread! It was all very tasty. I cooked.
An overwhelming sweet craving kicked in. Though my random snack cravings typically skew salty, I’ve always got sweet treats on deck to accommodate for variable change. I foraged the kitchen, the pantry first, the refrigerator second. The choice was easy, and so I removed the unopened pack of cookie dough from the fridge. Rather than preheating the oven and getting organized with a sheet tray and non-stick foil, I brought the cookie dough with me back to the couch. Without looking to my right to verify, I could feel two eyes staring at me. Dialogue ensued.
the roommate: What are you doing?!
me: Not much, about to have some of this cookie dough.
the roommate: You’re not going to cook that?!
the roommate: But you can’t do that!
me: Why not?
the roommate: Dude, you’ll get salmonella!
The back and forth continued, but let me expound for a second. First of all, I’ve been eating raw cookie dough for almost 26 years. It’s not a common practice of mine, but I’m no stranger to taking a tablespoon (not to be mistaken with a teaspoon) to the giant tub of cookie dough. I’ve had exactly zero salmonella scares. Other than a brief stomach ache from time to time, I’ve ended almost all raw cookie dough indulgences in good spirits and relatively good health.
me: No I won’t. Trust me. I’ve done this before. Never once got salmonella.
the roommate: I don’t know man, I don’t think you should do that.
me: Have you ever had raw cookie dough before?
the roommate: What? No way.
me: What the fuck is wrong with you?
the roommate: What the fuck is wrong with ME?!
me: Yes. Everyone eats raw cookie dough from time to time.
the roommate: You’re crazy.
me: I think you may be the only person I’ve ever met who’s never had raw cookie dough.
the roommate: Raw cookie dough is for chumps.
me: You’re the biggest chump there is.
END OF DIALOGUE
The conversation ended there because I had raw cookie dough in my mouth at that point. I was disappointed that I had delayed it that long (60 seconds max) because of this ridiculous person who I call my roommate. Let’s recap. Not only has he never eaten raw cookie dough, but he had the nerve to try to make me look like the weirdo. He even had the BALLS to then insult me as well as all other cookie dough lovers. Obviously he was lashing out at something he could never understand, but to call us “chumps” is where I draw the line.
On the one hand, this is an opportunity for me to stock up on cookie dough without the fear of the roommate infringing upon my personal food. On the other, more obvious, hand, we’ve got a problem here. It’s impossible to trust someone who has never had raw cookie dough. Even if he tried it and didn’t like it, I could maybe look the other way. I doubt there’s a person on earth who doesn’t like it, but I suppose it’s possible. Never tried it and then proceeded to talk shit about it. It’s one thing to have never participated, but to resort to petty, foolish, out of place, ignorant, and uninformed name calling is unacceptable.
It’s probably time to seek alternative living arrangements. AKA I’m looking for a new roommate who is okay with raw cookie dough (in moderation), otherwise known as a normal person.