Surviving The Blues

12

"Okay, so would you rather wear the color yellow for the reminder of your life or..." he pauses while adding the coconut flour to the mixing bowl, "bathe in milk for the rest of your life?" He asks.

I am leaning on the counter top. I am lending minimum assistance to our current situation. The reason being I can't bake and will probably burn, measure wrong or get it all wrong. "Are all shades of yellow allowed?" I question Glendale. He nods. "How about clothing with mostly yellow, but a hint of another color? Maybe a black and yellow bottom?" I ask.

"No color mixing." He says adding the almond milk and apple aside vinegar to the flour, baking powder, vegan sugar, salt and baking soda.

"How about accessories and shoes? Does that include hair ties?"

"Yes." He answers. "You know the game is played with a lot less questions." He seems to be slightly worn out by my continuous questioning, but questions are essential to get the most accurate answer.

"What kind of milk? Can I choose a non dairy based milk?" It's a relevant question. They can be proven to be less sticky.

He turns on the mixer. He groans, but answers. "I will allow any kind of milk." He says.

I take a second more. "I choose bathing in milk. I could always swim to wash off the milk residue. Maybe a  jog in the rain. Besides, it might have hidden health benefits. Even though yellow compliments my skin tone, I am sure the color yellow might draw unnecessary attention. Plus, it isn't the most professional color. If you choose a color like black or blue, I might have had a different answer."

He looks over at me with a blank look on his face and give him a slightly innocent smile. "You are terrible at this." He says.

"On the contrary, I am merrily analyzing all possible choices and choosing correctly."

What are we doing? Well, for starters, Glendale isn't as bad as he is described or how I experienced him at first.  Aside from his occasional brushes with ignorant comments like most human begins, he's pretty easy to tolerate.

So easy to tolerate that I subconsciously find myself coming to his house despite our project being basically completely. We have two weeks left before our project is done. I guess this little arrangement might be over after that.

At the moment, we are baking. Surprisingly, he is vegan. I wouldn't have assumed he was considering he shut down doing our project on the meat industry.

So why are we baking exactly? I had a bag of Cheetos from lunch today that I didn't eat. I took it out in front of him and he almost crucified me. He claimed the smell of the cheese was nauseating and that I shouldn't eat it in front of him. It started a whole back and forth about me wanting to snack to which he eventually said he would make me a snack that would be acceptable to eat in front of him. In my opinion, he was just being a drama queen and just wanted to show off his baking skills. I know for a fact the smell of non vegan food and cheese doesn't effect him. I know this because I witnessed one of the girls sitting on him eating Cheetos a week ago.

"Your turn." He says. I pick up a spoon and dip it in the batter and he gives me a look and shakes his head.

I lick the spoon. "Would you rather pee a little when you talk or have to perform flatulence every time you walk?"

"You mean fart?" He questions. I nod. "Would it kill you to say fart. I feel like I need translator with you talking like that." He sighs.

"I've toned it down the best I can." I tell him. He gives me a look. "I should try a little harder?"

"You should, but to answer you question, I would pee every time I laugh . Considering I can limit my laughing. I need to walk however ." I hum. He pops the cupcakes in the oven. "Would you rather give up sex for five years or only eat one food of your choosing for five years?"