The Pickle Story or How I Became an Expert on the One Thing I'm an Expert On

Because someone asked the question, I shall offer the answer.

Back in olden times, I was a contractor and my body gave out and I couldn't perform the work with my normal awesomeness bordering on Super Hero Status, so my wife suggested that I return to college to get my architecture degree. I got a menial job working for an architecture firm in Jackson to try the job on for size and found that I liked it. I enrolled in Mississippi State University School of Architecture and started attending classes.

MSU or as most people refer to it, WE SUCK, is in Starkville, Mississippi, one hundred twenty miles north of Jackson. I got a place to live up there, plus commuted back and forth during the week to school a couple of nights a week. Reduced my hours at work during the week and made them up on the weekends, you know the drill.

So, two homes, many, many miles on the car, eating out all the time. Blah, blah, blah.

READ THIS, NOW. It's an integral part of the story.

Anyhoo, I made a decision to reduce the amount of dust that I spent by getting some sandwich stuff in Starkville to eat, making the little monster happy.

Sandwich fixings purchased: Unidentifiable meat in a package, deli cheese, mayo, Guldens, bread, and.....just a random jar of pickles. Hamburger dills, if you must know. Flat pickles, for the sandwich thingy, so the sandwich would maintain its desperately needed flatness. Because sandwiches by definition are kinda flat.

Prepared said feast. Stood over sink, took bite.

There appeared (OBVIOUSLY!!!) to be poison in the flat sandwich thingy. I spat a really disgusting, partially chewed glob of what I originally assumed to be "food" into said sink.

The scientific investigation that followed led me to the conclusion that said purchased pickles were not produced for human consumption. Grabbed the jar, rolled up my sleeves and headed back to Kroger to administer the proper beatdown on the first employee that I could find.

I was stopped instantaneously upon entering by a manager that was more than eager to satisfy my every whim, gladly offered to replace the jar of FLAT, GREEN DOGSHIT with any other pickles my little heart desired.

I grabbed another jar of hamburger dill chips, plus took the time to pick out numerous other jars of pickles on the display. The manager led me to the chilled food section where there were even more pickles. I got a couple of jars of them, too.

I also grabbed a box of oyster crackers with which to sandpaper my tongue after eating my sample pickles. You know, this is SCIENCE.

Got back to the TRAILER and busted out all of the pickles for taste testing. After eating one of every single pickle that I had, I ran the taste test again. Same result.

Then I invited three of my friends over to perform the taste test.

To a man, every single one of the people involved in the test picked the very same pickle, so I offer you the BEST PICKLE IN THE WORLD. Four out of four scientists agree.....

Claussen Kosher Dill Minis, in your grocer's chilled food section. It's close to that "meat" in a clamshell package.

(The photograph is of the current jar of G_d's gift to the pickle universe that at the present time resides in my refrigerator.)

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