someone we all love dearly was formerly affiliated with someone who made vinegar. for a living. this someone went off his rocker after an apparent inhalation overdose of raspberry flavoring. we bid him and his lanyard adieu and epigraphed that epoch with the catchy line: we don't want that vinegar here! said with a sassy shake of the forefinger and a defiant flick of the raven/red hair.
we've been saying this for some weeks now. as a reminder that we live in a world of love, not fear. a world where insanity will not be tolerated. a world where homemade vinegars will not be hawked.
i've been emphatically chanting it whenever the name of the someone who left the life of the someone we all love dearly is mentioned. but for some reason i only just today remembered the viniagrette that's all my own.
the viniagrette who has made talking on the phone the agonizing torture that it is. the viniagrette who has accused me of beating up on the voices inside his head. the viniagrette that i love dearly but who is slowly, with each missed deadline and every passive-aggressive silence, thrusting me ever closer to the open window.
and then it hit me. just like that. anyone hiring? because we don't want that vinegar here.