Georgie and I are sharing some raw cashews. I am reminded of something from my younger (and wilder) days.
While living in Isla Vista (near UCSB, known for burning down the Bank of America building in the 60's) I discovered that raw cashews and raisins made a very tasty snack combination. My friend Paul and I needed to get home to San Diego, so we decided to hitchhike. I brought along a big bag of my favorite snack. We got a ride from a rather good looking man, who had a drinking problem. He had a big glass of tequila sunrise that he took liberal use of, and he stopped at a bar on the way and bought all of us a couple of beers. I can't remember what set him off, but the end of our journey with him was when he swerved over to the shoulder of the freeway, slammed on his brakes and yelled at us to get out of his car. Frankly, I was a bit relieved to not be in a car driven by a seriously drunk asshole, but not so crazy about being on the side of a freeway in the dark. Paul and I walked to the next exit, were lucky enough to find that the Greyhound bus station was right there, and managed to get on the last bus of the night to San Diego.
What does this have to do with raw cashews and raisins? It turned out that this particular combination caused a prolific and odoriferous reaction in my digestive system. Poor Paul, sitting next to me in a bus, finally declared that I needed to stop eating those things.
We arrived safely in San Diego, and Paul called his mother to come pick us up from the bus station downtown. She told us that the only reason she did was that we were smart enough to take the bus instead of hitchhiking. If she only knew!
While living in Isla Vista (near UCSB, known for burning down the Bank of America building in the 60's) I discovered that raw cashews and raisins made a very tasty snack combination. My friend Paul and I needed to get home to San Diego, so we decided to hitchhike. I brought along a big bag of my favorite snack. We got a ride from a rather good looking man, who had a drinking problem. He had a big glass of tequila sunrise that he took liberal use of, and he stopped at a bar on the way and bought all of us a couple of beers. I can't remember what set him off, but the end of our journey with him was when he swerved over to the shoulder of the freeway, slammed on his brakes and yelled at us to get out of his car. Frankly, I was a bit relieved to not be in a car driven by a seriously drunk asshole, but not so crazy about being on the side of a freeway in the dark. Paul and I walked to the next exit, were lucky enough to find that the Greyhound bus station was right there, and managed to get on the last bus of the night to San Diego.
What does this have to do with raw cashews and raisins? It turned out that this particular combination caused a prolific and odoriferous reaction in my digestive system. Poor Paul, sitting next to me in a bus, finally declared that I needed to stop eating those things.
We arrived safely in San Diego, and Paul called his mother to come pick us up from the bus station downtown. She told us that the only reason she did was that we were smart enough to take the bus instead of hitchhiking. If she only knew!
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