Today is March 14, otherwise known as Steak and BJ Day. There is a Facebook page. I thought I might have dreamed this so I asked my neighbour if she had heard of it and her gag reflex came up: “IT’S THE WORST DAY EVER!” She is a vegetarian.
Legend has it that this day has come about to reciprocate all the men because Valentine’s Day is such a big brouhaha of diamonds and cunnilingus. As though it’s that hard to throw money at a day and perform the alphabet with your tongue. Waaaay easier than a blow job, sir. What a weird concept. From a man’s perspective, I can’t help thinking that it must be one of those things that looks better than it actually is, like marzipan: It’s icing! *takes bite* Oops, no, it’s shit. Aren’t getting blow jobs a big lunch bag let down? All that effort, slurping, gasping, dying, and don’t teeth get in the way? These are not rhetorical questions, I really want to know. Some women I know claim to be champions and yet get all tight-lipped when it comes to sharing techniques. I guess it makes sense in this dog-eat-dog world of survival of the fittest. If I was the Mighty Queen of Cabeza, I would probably keep it to myself and whoever holds the scepter.
As for making a special day of it, I have to say, I think it’s kind of sweet idea. I picture all these Mad Men-type ladies planning this day down to the details, writing a shopping list in the morning and then heading out to the market where they buy canned creamed corn, string beans, and stuff to make a pineapple upside down cake. Then off to the liquor mart for Canadian Rye (Don Draper’s drink…okay, let’s be clear, I’m having a “Me and Don Draper-specific” fantasy here), and wine for me to loosen up my super tight jaw muscles that I have gotten from grinding my teeth at night. In real life, seriously, I grind so hard my jaw cracks when I pronounce a vowel.
Then I go to the butcher shop for the steak. Now as you know, I like my real-life Danforth butcher shop but since I’m in fantasy mode and I’m channeling Donna Reed in a girdle and a puffy dress, I cannot be caught dead in there dressed like that, so it’s off to the Bronx I go. The butcher is Marty, played by Ernest Borgnine.
Marty: Why, hello, Mrs. Draper, what can I get for you this fine day?
Me: Good morning, Marty! It is a beautiful day, isn’t it? I’m looking for your finest cut of steak for Mr. Draper this evening.
Marty: Oh, sure thing, Mrs. Draper. Is there a special occasion?
Me: Of course, Marty, it’s Steak and BJ Day! Didn’t you hear on the radio?
Marty: Ooooh, right, I don’t pay much attention to these things, Mrs. Draper. I’m not very popular with the ladies.
Me: Oh, that can’t be true, Marty, you’re a sweet man. Surely any single girl would love to go out with you.
Marty: I’ve never had a girlfriend in my entire life, Mrs. Draper, even the homely ones won’t give me the time of day.
Me: Don’t be silly, Marty, if I was a single gal, you’d be in big trouble, and call me Betty.
Marty: Really…Betty? Gee, that Mr. Draper sure is a lucky fella!
Betty: Well, he does work hard, Marty, and sometimes he doesn’t get home until very late at night.
Marty: You must get pretty lonely, Betty…
Betty: Oh, Marty, I sure do! I’m so lonely! What about you, Marty, you must be lonely too?
Marty: I told you, Betty, the dames all look at me like I’m a big, ugly bug!
And that’s where the fantasy goes awry. I feel sorry for Marty and I give him a mercy hummer in the back of my Cadillac, and Don calls later saying he’s staying in the city and of course I know he’s with that beatnik ho, Midge. So much for March 14. But stay tuned for March 25 for Madmen Season 5. THAT is something I will sink my teeth into, here are some snips.
FYI, in real life I’m having chicken tonight.
And here’s the trailer for Marty, so cute! I guess I would hit it, I do love a butcher after all: