I went grocery shopping with my chinese roommate and learned something important about myself. I have no idea what curry is.
We went to the Secret Walmart, it’s December but there are still no line ups at the Secret Walmart-yes I will be doing all my Christmas shopping there, he needed to go grocery shopping. I just needed an ice scraper for my car. To whoever I told I wanted one for Christmas, you can take it off the list.
When I met up with him again he asked if I knew where the curry was. There are just somethings you don’t think about until someone asks you. My mind started working. Trying to figure out where in the Secret Walmart curry would be kept. Yes, my first thought was, “in the disgusting aisle” but then I remembered that they didn’t organize the food according to my taste.
Then I realized I didn’t even know what curry was. I know what it smells like. To me it smells like one of the old houses I used to live in. It was a horrible horrible place. Thinking about curry makes me think about that house and thinking about that house makes me cry.
So me and curry have an emotional relationship. I could write for days about the weird and frustrating things that went on in that place but that’s not what I want to talk about now. Right now I want to talk about curry.
I didn’t know if it was a weird looking fruit or a paste of some kind. Was it like indian Ketchup? Was it a condiment? Was it liquid? Yes that’s right. I didn’t even know what state it was. Although I was pretty sure it wasn’t a gas. Pretty sure.
Before tonight, if there was a curry identifying competition. I would have lost. If you would have shown me a picture of curry and asked me what it was I wouldn’t have been able to tell you.
It took a little wandering before I found the spice aisle. Duh.
I felt so dumb that I decided to write about it. Feeling stupid needs to be shared with the world. If you already knew curry was a spice then go ahead and feel better than me for a while. It’s okay.