A SEASON FOR ALL SEASONINGS
By Matthew Sanborn Smith
That winter was the worst we’d ever seen. Constant blizzards, we even had two blizzards at the same time. Sure, some people thought it was just one big one, but they were a bunch of crackheads. Any fool could tell those snowflakes were from two distinct social circles. Halfway into the season, supplies ran low. When we ran out of salt for the icy roads, we turned to the next best thing: paprika.
“The roads are too spicy now!” some bitches at the town hall meeting complained. And when I say bitches, I want you to know I’m referring to both genders of human and no gender of dog.
“How ‘bout oregano?” I screamed. “Huh? How ‘bout that? Let’s see your goddamned cars get traction on oregano. It’ll be like dying at the Olive Garden.”
“Hey, hey! Take it easy,” they said. I told them they wouldn’t like it when I got riled.
“Don’t make me pull out my jerk spice,” I added, just to let them know I wasn’t rolling over.
“What if we peppered the roads with garlic salt?’ they offered, much more conciliatory now.
“You idiots!” I shouted. You pepper the streets with pepper, you don’t pepper the streets with garlic salt! You’ll get us all killed!”
A guy in the back raised his hand. “No pepper!” I said. His hand went down.
“Howsabout we garlic salt the streets with garlic salt?” someone asked.
“Now that there just might work,” I said. “Everybody?”
The ‘Ayes’ had it.