This is a narrative about Bob. You may have a Bob in your life. Bob scares me. Bob lives three doors down. He calls me nightly. The times vary but, inevitably, without fail, he phones.

Bob is one of the inspirations for me to stay single.

When I moved into the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois, Bob was the first to knock on my door with his wife, Beth. Beth had prepared a beautiful tuna casserole to welcome me into the neighborhood. After delivering the dish, served up with the usual pleasantries, Beth went home. Bob stayed.

“So, what do you think of my wife?” Bob asked, as he watched through the open door as she stepped from the porch.

“I think she’s very nice,” I answered, somewhat puzzled he’d be asking me about his wife.

Bob quietly closed the door. “Don’t let her fool you,” he whispered, parting the curtains to peek out the window. “She’s a bitch. And she’s trying to kill me.”

Bob watched intently as Beth walked down the street.

“Last week, she cooked beef liver for supper,” Bob resumed. “At the last minute, she decided to get Chinese food. She put the liver in the microwave and left it there overnight. Guess what was for supper the next night.”

“Fried rice?” I replied, trying to hide my uneasiness.

“Beef liver. I pretended to eat it but actually stuffed the pieces in my crotch. Don’t you see? She was trying to feed me tainted meat.”

“I, uh, have to go, Bob” I said, searching for an excuse to leave my own home. “I have an appointment I have to get to.”

“Then, just last night I saw her take a small bottle of some kind of red sauce from the cupboard,” he continued, as if he never heard me. “She shook a couple drops into the ground beef she was cooking for tacos. I put that stuff in my crotch too.”

“Look, Bob, I gotta go. I’m having a vasectomy,” I said, spouting the first thought that entered my head.

“That’s another thing!” Bob shouted, turning with a wild look in his eyes. “After that red concoction didn’t kill me, Beth brought a big pair of nail clippers to bed with her. Not the little clippie kind. These were the big ones that could snip cat claws! She said she was going to trim her nails. I snuck downstairs, put on my jock strap and slept with one eye open last night!”

“Bob, I gotta go.”

“Yeah. Okay. Hey, you want to come over for supper tomorrow night?”

I politely declined stating that the trauma of being cut would probably have a profound effect on my psyche.

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” he responded grabbing his crotch. “I’ll have Beth fix a dish and we’ll bring it over tomorrow night.”

It’s people like Bob who have made me feel blessed that I have the freedom to move about the country.

My next one’s coming.

Restaurant-Style Egg Sandwich

1 egg

Butter

1 slice ripe tomato

1 slice American cheese

Mayonnaise

Ketchup

2 slices of your favorite bread

This recipe is designed for one, but if there are two of you, simply double the ingredients.In a frying pan slowly melt about a tablespoon of butter. When the butter is melted, crack the egg and cook gently over low heat. While the egg cooks, take a fork and break the egg yolk and spread it around a little bit. When the egg is fully cooked (you can tell when the clear part of the egg turns white) flip with a spatula or pancake turner. Lay the slice of cheese over top of the turned egg. When the cheese is soft and mostly melted, remove the egg from the pan and place cheese side up on one of the pieces of bread (or toast). Top with the tomato slice. Spread a thin layer of mayonnaise or ketchup, or both, on the other slice. Salt and pepper to taste.