Eating Crow and Slow-Roasting Regret

eating crow erika napoletano is redheadwritingLife as of late in the World of the Redhead had been a dirt sandwich. I don’t really eat sandwiches, as bread sends me into a full-on carb crash and I lose half my day…so imagine my surprise when I finally sit down to eat, it’s a sandwich, and there’s fucking dirt inside.

Awesome.

But there’s something I’m eating this week that’s harder to swallow: crow.

It’s inevitable that when life shoves your head up your ass, you also end up talking out of it. Grief and anger bring about words and phrases that were never in your vocabulary prior. They make a sharp wit more of a matador’s sword. And all of which place you in the position of eating crow. You might think you didn’t order it (weren’t the plum quail, Cornish game hen and crow close to one another on the menu?), but you did.

And I’m not going to say that there are people who weren’t due a little ration of fuck you. But there are a handful of people that just got the brunt of a brain not firing on all cylinders.

So I apologized. Then. There. Not later. Not in a month.

Right there.

Because ordering up a full plate of crow is easier than slow-roasting regret.

Regret is always on the menu, even though we skip over it in favor of anything wrapped in bacon. It never comes out right , always undercooked or burnt beyond recognition. Undercooked is when people think they’re not in the wrong and wait for someone else to make things right. Burnt all to hell is when we sit on it so long and bury it so deep that we’ll never do the one simple thing (like cowboy the fuck up) that will make us seem human: admit we might have been wrong. And you know, we don’t even actually have to BE wrong. Opening the door to the possibility so you can actually have a conversation tastes loads better than slow-roasted regret.

And there’s no perfect side dish for regret, either. Pain with a demi-glacé, broiled jerk and gut-wrenching emptiness (with seasonal vegetables)…none of them fit but the chef jams ’em all together anywhoo.

So how about the small dish? A little crow…some blue cheese dip. Eat it like hot wings. And take it from a girl who knows: eating the crow now beats a shitty meal you never wanted but they’re never going to comp. If you’re going to pay, you might as well order, right?

26 comments
joshua
joshua

Better to let the bird fly, even if you have to eat the crow later. The regret that comes from not expressing hostilities to those who deserve your wrath, is much worse than the regret of being a doormat.

Mari Kurisato
Mari Kurisato

Did anyone say which flavor Fresca to serve with yet?

The Redhead
The Redhead

I didn't even know martinis came in such varieties. As of late, it's been straight distilled nonsense. Bleh!

Denise
Denise

Being quick to ration out "Fuck You's" as my defense, armor, shield, I too apologize quickly. On the spot usually, maybe within hours. I hate the place you get when you feel like you have to fire your "fuck you rifle". But you know, it happens. Usually an apology works, but sometimes the assaulted are just one fuck you over the limit-then you might as well just plant your ass at the crow buffet. I'll be there this week. Damn.

Cherry Woodburn
Cherry Woodburn

Creative title with a post that reminds me of the importance of apology - right away. I typically don't have difficulty with apologies but there's been exceptions and you depict the feeling of regret well. Thanks Reds.

Brenna Smith
Brenna Smith

Gawd, you are so right. Nothing tastes good with any of those...especially regret. There's not enough dressing in the world to cover up that aftertaste.

Bagelj
Bagelj

I wonder this will be an official recipe on the Food Network.

HighrankersSEO
HighrankersSEO

I'm humming "You are my sunshine" to you right now. Remarkable writing. Remarkable message. Remarkably red hair. How often do you get proposals of marriage in your comments? I fight the urge to pop the question to you every post. (And I like dudes.) Rant on my sweet. Rant on.

Shannon
Shannon

Just the bit of reading I needed this morning, as I've been picking feathers out of my teeth all week. Thanks.

Peggie
Peggie

Lovely. I will read anything you write. and I'm gonna place a little bet that you have a slight (almost miniscule) upswing on the tail end of one (or both) of your head lines...it's what sends you hurtling headlong here: "They make a sharp wit more of a matador’s sword." And frankly it's what makes you real. Because crow, while not the tastiest of morsels, is quite respectable. And I'll always respect you in the morning. :)

Kellie J Walker
Kellie J Walker

You've got stones, Red. Quite a pair, in fact. Big 'uns is what they'd call them in my home town. You've also got class. And, from what I've seen so far, you've got that in spades. It's a pleasure to know that some folks still do the honorable thing. That doesn't mean they are perfect. It just means they are willing to acknowledge when they make a mistake. Yep. Big 'uns and in spades. With lots of monkay love, Kellie

Killian
Killian

Crow isn't bad. Just don't roast it over a burning heretic. It gives the bird a weird aftertaste.

Mary
Mary

I love that saying that unforgiveness is like taking poison and waiting for whoever offended you to die! And blue cheese makes everything better!

Lori
Lori

And the toenails make great toothpicks afterwards. This made my morning, Erika. Thanks.

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  1. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Jeff Gibbard, Francesca Amigo. Francesca Amigo said: From @RedheadWriting – a great line: "…ordering up a full plate of crow is easier than slow-roasting regret." http://ow.ly/3aA8C […]