Being a bachelor is no excuse

Recently a group of neighbors and friends have started doing "family dinner" nights. We take turns hosting pot lucks at our places.

Last night we trekked across town to a friend's place. He just moved from a different apartment in the building where he and his girlfriend lived until she cheated on him to this one. I wrote a little about him the other day. The only other time I'd been there was on moving day a couple of weeks ago. He hadn't unpacked the kitchen yet that night so it was empty.

It's still empty, but he's unpacked now.

Here's the scene I walked into. I unloaded my bottle of wine and side dish in the kitchen. One other couple had just arrived, and they were setting out appetizers.

My friend walked into his kitchen and said, "I bought food but I'm not cooking it."

I looked in the fridge and saw ingredients for chicken fajitas and burgers. The raw chicken strips were still rock solid frozen. "Who's cooking?" I asked.

He said our friend agreed to cook if he bought the food. So I poured some wine, nibbled on appetizers and chatted with people as they arrived. An hour later, people were still arriving but there was no sign of the friend who had promised to cook.

"Uhm, you think we should start cooking?" I asked the host. "It's after 8."

"Sure, have at it," he said.

After a series of dirty and confused looks, this single girl who rarely cooks went into a strange man's kitchen and started thawing the block of chicken. I frantically opened cabinets looking for ingredients and pans.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Do you have any seasonings or oil?" I even checked the bathroom and bedroom for coconut oil. The bachelor's kitchen was so empty it didn't even have salt or pepper. 

He shook his head. "I eat every meal out," he said. "I got so lost and confused in Walmart that an employee asked if I needed help."

My eyes got big. "I'm trying to imagine fajitas without seasoning." He laughed and pulled out two packets of fajita seasoning in the almost empty drawer that only held bug spray.

The host made a quick run to the market downstairs for the necessities - like paper plates since he only had about six. By now there were about 15 people there and the friend who had promised to cook had arrived. She took the burgers to the roof to grill them, and one of the other guests came in the kitchen to help me when I asked for a volunteer to chop the onion.

Yes, I cooked. I also made everyone promise to not tell anyone.

I'm still trying to figure out why I didn't sit my ass down and drink like everyone else. By the end of the night people were asking me where stuff was in his kitchen - like I knew? The good thing was it kept me busy so I didn't have to chat with a couple of really annoying people there. And my cooking partner was nice. His girlfriend was one of the annoying people. Maybe that's why he was cooking too?

I'm always talking about single women being financially and emotionally independent. Now I'm turning the tables. This bachelor needs to man up. Stock his kitchen and learn how to use it. We made a deal. He'll help me handle my sports car and my pistol better and I'll help him maneuver a grocery store. But cooking is his problem. Who's getting the better deal? I'll wait 'til he calls me.

Love to the single girls,
Addison