It's Independence Day and Elsie W is FREE

Good morning!

To all my American Friends and Family:  Happy Independence Day!

In honor of my country's celebration of independence, Elsie W.'s OTHER book, UNSAFE AT ANY SPEED, if FREE all this weekend to Kindle users!

Click HERE to get both of Elsie's Books, or, if you want a little romance in your life, CLICK HERE and check out my romance novels!

Not sure what' Elsie W.'s all about?  Here's a sneak peek!

Chapter Five:

George Foreman is banned from Stuff, Installed.

One of the items Elsie used to keep herself well fed was her George Foreman grill. These mini grills are very portable and the product's claim to fame is that the fat of whatever you're grilling simply falls away from the food so that you can eat a far healthier piece of meat. The other claim to fame is that clean up of the grill was no problem.

          When Elsie heard the ad for the grill on TV this is what she heard:  "blah, blah, blah, healthier piece of meat, blah, blah blah, no grease, blah, blah, blah, no clean up."

          So she brought her table top electric fat reducing grill to the office and for a couple weeks we were treated the lovely smells of her meat grilling. The difference between grilling the meat she ate and microwaving the meat she ate in the course of a day was twofold: 

1)    Microwaving went faster. 

          That little grill thing was not powerful enough to heat through the shank of lamb or the wad of meatloaf she crammed into it, so her solution was to jack up the heat and let the grill just cook, unattended, for as long as it took. This involved several trips to the kitchen on her part, to make sure the meat was cooking. Which took her away from the phone even more than when she microwaved her multiple feeds during the day.

2)    The fat the grill claimed to pull away from the meat had to go somewhere.

           If you've seen or used a George Foreman grill, you know that fat has to go someplace and there's a tiny little track where the fat sort of falls as it rolls off the meat. That's great if you're grilling one turkey burger or maybe one small hamburger patty and then you clean out the grease. But that's not Elsie's style. She refused to acknowledge the waterfall effect her George Foreman grill was starting to have on the kitchen counter.

           We all knew this river of fat was the result of her habit of shoving a meatloaf into the grill and then letting it cook for an hour while she was in the bathroom coughing or making personal phone calls. We also knew, because we'd seen her cake pan at the Stuff, Installed cheesecake contest (as discussed in the previous book) that she wasn't one to worry about things like salmonella or E-coli.

          NBM was horrified. The food smells that rolled up and down the Tunnel of Sound sickened him. Most of it didn't bother PM or me...PM has small kids and pets and I have teenagers and four cats. Fun smells abound in our homes. But NBM was a very tidy fellow and the mere sight of the coagulated grease on the counter made him sick. Not sick enough to actually clean it up, you understand because, well, that was women's work. Just like washing his cereal bowl every morning was, which is why he set it on my desk. And I'm no liberated woman, but I don't dishes at my own house...it's very doubtful I'll ever wash his.

          Anyway, NBM was horrified at Lac du Grease on the kitchen counter. After several weeks of complaining about it to me, or anyone else who would listen (if you think about it, it sort of broke his golden rule of not talking badly about other employees) he finally addressed it with Elsie herself.

          NBM:  You can’t have that thing in here.

          ELSIE:  What thing? (She says, through a mouthful of chicken Parmesan LOADED with cheese.)

          NBM:  You can’t have that grill thing in here anymore. It makes a mess and you never clean it up.

          ELSIE:  I clean up after myself. I never make a big mess, though.

          NBM:  You do. There’s grease everywhere on the counter and you never clean it up. I have to clean up it every day.

          (That’s a bit of a stretch. He would gripe about it until I cleaned it up, but I don’t think that’s the same thing.)

          ELSIE:  But it makes healthy food for me. It takes away the grease from the food. So there’s no grease anyplace because the grill takes it away.

          (Take a minute, won’t you, and ponder her logic.)

         

          NBM:  Yes, but that grease has to go someplace and in this case it goes all over the counter and you don’t clean up after yourself, so you are not allowed to use that thing in the office kitchen anymore.

          ELSIE:  NBM this is just another way of you trying to keep me down and control me. Can I tell you something?

          (The answer to this, her constant question, was always NO!)

          ELSIE:  You are taking away my rights to have a grease free meal.

          SARAH:  Or four. (Yep, I went there. I said it just loud enough for PM, who was making copies next to me slowly so he could witness this throw down. PM is very fair skinned. He stifled his laughter, but could not stifle the way his face turned bright red with the effort.)

          NBM:  I’m not taking away anyone’s rights. It’s my right as the manager to expect people to clean up after themselves and when they don’t it’s my right as the manager to make sure the office stays clean.

          ELSIE:  (gathering up the pieces of the George Foreman Grill.)  Well, I hope you and BBO managed to get good health insurance because I’m going to need it now that I can’t drain away the fat in my food.

          She tossed the grill in a small box and then shoved the box into one of the lower cabinets. NBM walked into his office, satisfied that the matter was settled.

          He clearly hadn’t been paying attention.