In the Northwest Airlines $3 snack box, there's...
1. A spiced sausage
2. Two celophane-wrapped sesame crackers
3. A soft granola Chewy Bar
4. A small bag of dried fruit
5. Two Oreo cookies
6. A moistened, scented, antibacterial towlette
7. A napkin
and
8. A wedge of President
Have a good look at the attached graphic as it is the sole identifier on a silver, foil-wrapped wedge.
Nothing but what you see - one label, one word - "PRESIDENT".
Whatever is inside, it's "President."
A Wedge of President.
I have to admit...
...until last week, I didn't know what "President" was.
At least, "President" in it's foil wrapped wedge form.
Thankfully, a well-done illustration can communicate across cultures, languages and even into my sheltered naivete.
Beholding the smallish, 2" long wedge of President, I gathered that President...
A. Causes a yellowish discharge to ooze out of the mouth.
B. Is invisible.
C. Causes the pupils to dilate in a big way.
D. Makes you very, very h a p p y.
Scene - dark, overgrown hedgerow of a park on the wrong side of town. A rough, unshaven man in a green military trench coat approaches a mild-mannered father sitting on a park bench, reading the Sunday paper
"Hey...hey...you looking to score some weed?"
"No. No man. I don't do drugs."
"Hash?"
"No man..." (gets up to walk away)
"Some crank man? Some crank...?"
"No...please...I'm not here to..."
"You want some...PRESIDENT?!"
President. From the illustration, it's pretty powerful stuff!
But in practice, I must have a high tolerance for President as it didn't do anything for me.
Neither did it do anything for my colleage.
We sat...nibbling...(we figured we couldn't smoke it)...waiting...waiting...
No rabid frothing.
No disappearing substances.
No dilation.
No fun.
Just a small 2" x .5" wedge of President in our tummies.
Well, at least now I know.
When I'm meeting with dignitaries, and the butler offers the tray of President, I can make that upper-crust wave of my right hand that says, "No-no. Shoo! Begone with that President!"
When someone at the gallery auction complains about the tainted Fois Gras and the inferior President, I can roll my eyes along with them in sympathetic discomfort.
President.
Well, if you're flying Northwest, and the flight attendant offers you the $3 snack box, it's a pretty good deal.
The sausage wasn't bad - a bit heavy on the vinegar and pepper, but suprisingly lean and firm.
The Oreos were Oreos. Consistent. Assuring.
The dried fruit was great - lots of dried cherries in my bag.
The crackers were dry and crunchy as expected.
The granola bar was chewy.
The towlette smelled pretty good and left behind a satisfying, clean feeling.
The napkin was rather generous.
But...
I don't recommend the President.
At least until we find out what it is.
For sure.
