I missed a call from a foodie friend on Sunday. No big deal, I rang her back almost immediately. She asked me if I didn’t pick up before because I had armfuls of food and couldn’t get to my phone.
My eyes widen and my heart skips a beat.
Just a few moments before, I had just been lugging bags of oranges into my very full shopping trolley. I didn’t hear or feel my phone. A friend who I was shopping with at the Belconnen markets had gone to the delicatessen and wasn’t back yet. I reach into the shopping bag where I had just purchased warm freshly cut smoked bacon. I put it to my face; it was still warm and smelt so good. I could use it as a pillow, a delicious intoxicating smoked bacon scented pillow. I then quickly remember that I was still in public and returned my bag into the trolley.
Had my foodie friend seen me lay my head on bacon during that small glimpse of vulnerability at the market?
I nervously laughed and asked if she had seen me at the market using my ‘bacon pillow’, she didn’t know what I was talking about and it was just an assumption or even a lucky guess that I would have armfuls of food.
I then had to explain to her what I meant by my bacon pillow.
TALES OF A CONFECTIONIST 