The Rum in Bread Pudding - written in 2003, revised today.

I thought, since my sister made bread pudding tonight, I'd re-post this in salute to her greatness.

I was quite into writing scripts and dialogs for a while, and this piece was written to be the opening of...something. Which never happened anyway, but it was fun. I liked working food and aromas into social interactions of different degrees. Perhaps there's a minor influence from Woody Allen...


***

I think my stocking started to run. The new pair that which I had bought from Marks & Spencer this afternoon. Just to have them ruined at this bloody dinner. Great.

Less than a week ago, I had moved to this small town from downtown New York. Why? Well like any other chick lit would have as plot, to get away from all the hurtful gossip behind my back about the ugly divorce. I will not go into more details, to save some juice for my next story. Anyways, I had moved here to seek for peace of mind. And I was invited for dinner by my new neighbor, Mrs. Steiner.

The chubby woman sitting across from me never stopped licking meat sauce off her fat fingers. For Christ's sake, I cursed in my heart, she has been doing this since the dinner began. "Hell," I thought, and looked down at my watch. It was close to 8 o'clock in the evening, meaningless and random chats floated casually in low voices among us. No one seemed to have the intention to leave Mrs. Steiner's house.

The noise made from cheap wine glasses, had become nearly unbearable now.

"I've gotta say, this bread pudding with rum is pretty darn delicious"
The fat woman said, not stopping to lick her fingers.

"Isn't it? I can say that it is definitely far better than what she made last time!"
”Didn't you all know? That was because Mr. Steiner was out of town last time!“

There could not be a subject that evokes their interest more. A radiance of excitement appeared on their greasy and sagging, featureless faces. A radiance of gossipy excitement.

"What did that mean?"one featureless-monster giggled.

“Well, whenever Mr. Steiner gets out of town,” greasy-fat-face paused, as if that would trigger more attention from her audience. “The pool drain seems to be clogging all the time. If you know what I mean.”

Not being able to wait for the greasy-fat-face finished, shameless-old-hag commented, “Of course you know, that is because the young pool man is perhaps the most attractive little animal I have ever encountered! Alas! The scent of youth! Mrs. Steiner talks about him all the time.”

“That is why whenever the pool drain is clogged, Mrs. Steiner can hardly pay attention to making any desert!” featureless-monster is back in the game and proudly presented us with her theory.

“And that is why there's obviously too much rum in this bread pudding!"

I am not sure if it is the rum, or the gossip, or the greasy fat face that gave me a severe headache, but I think the noise made from cheap wine glasses, had just become louder.