I was sitting at my desk the other day, when one of my colleagues stopped by and said he had brought me something.
He then set an object down on my desk that vaguely resembled a collection of small dog poops, saran-wrapped and vacuum sealed.
I eyed it with a mixture of fear, confusion, and disgust.
“What is it?”
“It’s elk jerky.”
The disgust faded, but the confusion remained.
“Elk jerky?”
“Yes, remember when I went elk hunting last season, and you asked me to bring you some elk jerky, but I forgot? Well, here’s your elk jerky.”
There was a short pause. Then the lightbulb clicked. When he took vacation last year to do some elk hunting I had requested some of the spoils. It was kind of one of those things, though. As in, oh yeah you’re going fishing, well bring me back some salmon! and then, later, what!!! you forgot my salmon! when they come back from their fishing trip and want to eat all the salmon themselves. Only, it was elk. And I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted it in the first place.
“You look a little scared,” he said.
“I am a little scared.”
“Well, if you don’t want it, give it to [our other co-worker] Barney. He’ll eat it.”
“Oh noooo,” I said, “I’m going to at least try it.” I mean, c’mon. How often do you have the opportunity to taste elk?!
Which is why, at this very moment, I have a vacuum sealed bag of very genuine elk jerky in my kitchen. All I have to say is, be careful what you ask for. You just might get it.
