The Magic Cookie Mistake

Matt and I laughing at his Oceanside Condo. Plush!

So was at work this morning in P.R. and I get a phone call from my buddy Matt down the road.

MATT:  Hey Link, can you still give me a ride to the airport this afternoon?

LINK:  Ah man, no can do.  I know we talked about it but it turns out that the big meeting I was telling you about is right around your dropoff time so it's a no go.  Be happy to pick you up when you get back in a couple of weeks.

MATT:  No worries I'll cab it (we live about a 5 minute drive from the Airport).  But if you don't mind can you swing by here and drop me off my mic and copy of Rosetta Stone. 

Sidenote:  The Rosetta Stone. I thought it was the answer to my Spanish Speaking dreams.  It's supposed to be the best Tutorial Software out there and promises it can teach you any language in a matter of days.  I think I used it once with the Microphone that you're supposed to speak in for enunciation testing and then felt ridiculous.  Shortly after I decided it was much more efficient to go out to a bar, slam down about 5 or 6 cold ones, and communicate with the locals.  Seriously, I do that, ánd I'm ripping in Spanish- only after a few more my English starts to suffer.  But the Espanol is A-OK during this self-prescribed Spanish lesson. It's just another example of how I am always willing to take one for the team!  What can I say, I'm a good guy.

So where were we... oh yeah.

LINK:  Sure Matt, be right over.

So I head over towards his place which is about a mile away, all the while dealing with this Roller Coaster the Puerto Ricans call streets and highways, and even get a little lost- I've only been to Matt's place about ten times and you might ask how in the hell could I get lost with such a short distance but then obviously you don't know me or my sense of direction or this crazy island.  

Matt meets me downstairs in the street from his Oceanside Condo.

Me at Matt's condo, talking on the phone a few nights ago with Nate Dog in Oregon.  Great View of San Juan in the background.

 I hand him the Disc and Mic.

LINK:  Thanks for the loner, brother.

MATT:  Sure, no problem.  And here's a little gift for you.

He smiles and hands me a tray of fresh fruit and says that their going to go bad while he's gone and I might as well have them.  Thanks again.  And then he releases a wide, glowing smile and hands me a bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies in a clear ziploc bag.

MATT:  And you might enjoy these.  Made them myself.  They're Magic Man.

LINK:  Yeah buddy. Thanks bro. See you when you get back. Late.

Not paying much attention to what he said I flip a bitch and zip on back to the office, not wanting to be late to this meeting.  Before I hit the office downstairs I run upstairs and drop off the fruit in the fridge and throw the COOKIES on the counter.  Then I rush downstairs and prep for a busy day and the several  meetings we have planned with customers and vendors.

The first meeting goes well-  damn, I love doing business nowadays, and I go back and chill at my desk.  Then I get a beep on my cell phone signaling that I have a TEXT message.  I glance down and see:

MATT:  No worries on the Airport Drop off.  They stuck me on a 3:30 flight anyway... I went from barely making my plane to being 3 hours early.  Anyway, see you when I get back, and enjoy the COOKIES.  Careful, they're strong.

Oh, that's nice, I think and go back to work.  And then it hit's me. 

Wait. 

They're Magic Man.  and Careful, they're strong.

Cookies.

Oh shit, where's my Dad?

Uh huh hey guys, I suddenly shout out around the office.  Where's my Dad?

Aribba in el apartamento.

Oh shit.  My Dad upstairs on a lunchbreak loose in the apartment with a bag of HOMEMADE
BAG OF MAGIC COOKIES lying around.

OH FUCK!

When it comes to sweets and delights the Cookie Monster on Crack has nothing when compared to my Dad.  I'm constantly finding his stashes of chocolates and other sweets and throwing them out, only to find another stash the next day.  It's a constant effort to keep up with him and try to get him a little healthier.  I'm a bit of a hypocrite myself but the fact of the matter is that this business would never work without him and I need the big son of a bitch to be as healthy as possible.  And when it comes to sneaking guilty sweets and other delights he's worse than a little kid.

And worse than anything he has no idea what Magic Cookies are or what the results can be when you munch a handful of them down.

So yeah- OH FUCK!

I run upstairs and burst into the apartment.   I look on the kitchen counter first and see nothing.  Just an empty spot.

SHIT!

Then I zip over to his bedroom, knock on his door and push it open. 

VACANT!

Again, SHIT!

Where could he be?  We've got a huge meeting in an hour and he's gotta be there and on the ball and oh no... could he have eaten the whole bag of cookies earlier and become so zonked out that he's now out wandering the streets aimlessly and singing Niel Diamonds greatest hits to all the neighbors he passes.

Shit!

I run downstairs wondering whether or not I should begin my search.  Without saying a word and wanting to hit the panic button completely I glance out in the Marquisina (the Garage) and see that his car is gone.  I run back into the office.

Donde es me Padre?  I ask, almost shouting as I inquire to the old man's whereabouts.

El salió para almorzar.

He went out for lunch?  Could he have eaten the cookies without me noticing.  Could he have eaten all those cookies, the whole bag... before I even finish the thought two things hit me.

1.  Of course the big man could of eaten the whole bag- that's lightweight stuff for El Jefe.

2.  And oh yeah, I forgot I hid the bag in my closet upstairs at the last second for safekeeping.

Feeling like I'd eaten a cookie or two myself, I run upstairs to make sure.  Coast is clear.  The MAGIC COOKIES are safe and secure and tucked away in my closet.

It's then that I decide two things.

1.  To tell my Dad this story because he knows my vices and my own personal tastes, and most of all trusts me and would crack up at the story.

And he did too.  Here El Jefe is eating a normal sweet.  Gracias Adios para me suerte.

2.  To save the bag of MAGIC COOKIES for a special time.  It's no big deal for me, for those that know me know that my tastes and preferences have always been for a few cold ones and maybe throwing down a shot or two- you know, getting down the old fashion way. 

So yeah, gonna save the cookies for a special occasion.  And I've figured out what-  Gonna save them and give them to the first friend that gets their butt down here to the Caribbean to visit me.

Just one last question to ask.

Who's it gonna be?

Gotta back of Magic waiting on you in the meantime.  Who's it gonna be?