One of the work-study cafeteria workers took to drawing pictures with a dry erase pen on the sneeze guards over the entrees.
There was a speckled pink pig for pork chops that had a conversation bubble squeal (exclamation point) above his terrified head.
There was a smiling, four-legged octopus, (making him a quadrapus?) above a tray of congealing seafood pasta dyed, inexplicably, emerald green.
Mr. Peanut dapper-danced above the orange peanut butter chicken and a culturally insensitive meatball thumbs-upped the scarlet Italian delight.
The artist slept in mornings though leaving the breakfast sneeze guards bare and me left to figure for myself which mystery muffin was which.
I’d choose one at random and quickly to appease the snarling line behind me stacking into a long, contemptuous curve, eyes on my body, eyes on my choices…
And inevitably I’d end up with the loathsome banana nut which I would eat alone, hands shaking huddled in a bathroom stall.
I am an essayist and poet. My work has been rejected by some of the finest journals in America. Fortunately, it also gets accepted from time to time and has appeared in equally fine journals such as Word Riot, Inlandia, Brew City Magazine, and SageWoman, among others.. In 2002, I won the Academy of American Poets Prize for Vanderbilt University.
For no good reason, I possess an unnecessarily dark humor which is why being third generation California Inland Empirian delights me so. My gods are weird. I once won $350 for writing a smartassed essay on “why the wise use of water is important in my daily life”. I am undoubtedly the Greek god Hermes’ special snowflake. I’m pretty sure I got into college via a series of fortuitous clerical errors.
When I had to grow up and get a real job, I decided against it and stayed a writer. I have worked many odd—and I mean odd—jobs to support my habit: PR writer for country music hopefuls, resume massager, WalMart fitting room attendant and switchboard operator, and telephone psychic, just to name a few.
I am also albino. That's why my psychic gifts are so strong. I traded in my pigment for magical foresight, because that's how it works. It gets all technical. Trust me. That's totally how it works.
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M. N. Ashley 