In this life, it’s only fair that we all turn to something for a little bit of comfort. A baby to a blanket. A Karen to a racist tirade. A man named Derek to another “…this one time in Colorado…” story. And me, to my flask – my flask that is always in my jacket pocket. And always filled with banana pudding.
Some men, weaker men, carry around flasks of whiskey or gin to take the edge off, booze being their vice of choice. But I prefer to carry around a little twist-off tin of thick, hearty banana pudding.
Every morning I make a fresh batch and stick it in the freezer to set. By the time I’m done with Wordle, she’s normally just chunky enough to be ready for bottling. I take my funnel, and the pan full of flavored dairy offshoot, and commence. Now, I can go anywhere without anxiety of being stranded, no pudding in sight.
When it’s hot out, it makes a hissing noise when you open the flask. All the curds and whey having been poaching like eggs around in my breast pocket all afternoon at my son’s tee ball game. “Come on, Jeremy, only one more out!” I exclaim, taking the thickest pull of melted-down cheesecake fart you could ever imagine. I swish it around my mouth and through my teeth to thin it a little. You can’t be nervous about other things when the looming thought of full-blown dairy poisoning looms but one stomach gurgle away.
Yep. Me and my trusty flask of banana pudding. Same recipe as my grandma used to make, which I’m pretty sure is just the same recipe that’s on the back of the box you get at the store. I like to make mine extra thick so you have to tilt it all the way back and slap the sides of the flask a little to get any to come out. It’s like Pepto Bismol, but thicker. And yellower.
The other day, I got pulled over for drunk driving. So I rolled down the window and handled the cop the 12 ounces of curdled animal fat. He doubled over, wretched a few times, and sent me right on my way. Funny thing is, I was actually drunk as hell on rum, so the car probably smelled just like a tableside Bananas Foster.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to snort a bunch of lines of Nilla Wafers and granola before bed.
