Those who serve pretzels should be spicy and hot like mostaza… not cool and icy like a Cottonelle

Colonel Mustard is no stranger to big pretzels...!

Colonel Mustard is no stranger to big pretzels...!

EPR frequents a certain cafe in Venice that has some of the best baked goods (arguably) anywhere in Los Angeles… at least west of the 405.   Now EPR  has a theory that they only hire people to work at this eatery who have a fundamentally bad or poorly developed sense of humor.  This conclusion stems from the incontrovertible fact that EPR may not be the most charming guy in the world but when he makes a funny, it’s usually kinda funny… HOWEVER, every time he tries to bring a little sunshine and some fun witty banter to the sad bitter lives of the uber-jaded croissant jockeys at this establishment, they shoot him a cold hard stare that says one thing – pendejo.

Case and point: The display case had as its glorious centerpiece today a giant pretzel – probably about two feet in diameter… maybe bigger… it was striking – a Peter North of pretzels if you will… that is, if Peter North could bend his cock into a knot…which he probably can. Now the girl working the register today seemed a tad bit more charismatic than the uptight automatons that normally man the counter so EPR took the liberty to offer up a couple potentially entertaining tag lines for this porn star of a pretzel, such as: (1) “You think you got the mustard?” and (2) “You should see the sausage…”

Weak material, I know, but worthy of a chuckle…or at least a “Vamos compa, you can do better”… or so we thought. The young lady’s response to (1) was a confused grimace – EPR didn’t explain that you put mustard on pretzels and that a big pretzel would require mucho mostaza and that “mustard” is a loose metaphor for chutzpah/gonad, hence the irony and light humor of asking whether one has the literal and/or proverbial mustard to handle a pretzel of such overwhelming size and girth.  Harumph.

Hmmm...

Hmmm...

Her response to (2) was, “I don’t get it, we don’t sell sausage”. Yeah, claro que sí, but as EPR kindly pointed out, street vendors that sell pretzels often sell sausage (he did not connect the dots between big pretzels, big sausages, and big double entendres).  Our lovely server replied: “Pretzels aren’t served with sausage…you do know pretzels are german, right?” Yeah, and what the flying cabrito  do you think sausage is you smug fartfuck?  It was around this moment that EPR felt his angina act up… but being muy caballero  he maintained his composure and with a playful smile gently asked if she’d tried finding anything OTHER than sausage to eat in Germany.  Her answer was that she’d only been in Germany for 20 minutes… for a flight change in Frankfurt. EPR took a deep breath and sighed.  He didn’t point out that the question was in fact rhetorical…nor did he point out the blinding flash of the obvious –“Frankfurt, Germany”… “FRANKFURTER”! …SAUSAGE!! ….asshole!!! Why oh why does the cheddar jalapeño roll at this petri dish for sphincters have to taste so damn good! A veces el mundo es rico pero hay que pagar la cuenta. Oy.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: El Pollo Rico has and continues to withhold the name of the establishment in question for fear that they will revoke his baked goods privileges.  Revolution is for those with uncompromised principles…but sometimes you have to choose your battles.)

(EDITOR’S NOTE 2: The abahaka Nation acknowledges that this is a family friendly space on the interwebs and apologizes for any gratuitous profanity.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.)

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~ by El Pollo Rico on October 12, 2009.

2 Responses to “Those who serve pretzels should be spicy and hot like mostaza… not cool and icy like a Cottonelle”

  1. Hmmm. I’m with her on this one. That material was weak. I’d be confused about the sausage as well. Come on EPR get it together!

  2. Chi Chi, it is no secret to the abahaka Nation that sausage confuses you. You are still our beloved herman@. Abrazos, – EPR

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