You’re in the stands watching a thrilling fight to the death. It is hot, dusty, and the crowd about you is rapt, following the artist’s every move, swaying in their seats. He is resplendent in black pants, huge white ruffled blouse, a thin pair of suspenders barely able to reach across the great expanse of his deep shoulders. He holds a large red kerchief — his muleta — in one hand, occasionally to mop the ocean of sweat from his brow, mostly to exaggerate his gesticulations.
For someone so large, he moves with surprising agility, appearing, perversely, to be both matador and bull at the same time. Sometimes, he stares down his interlocutor with an intense gaze as if he is preparing to go in for the kill by hypnotizing her; sometimes she is the one who mesmerizes him. They dance around each other, weaving an epic narrative of life and lust, extremes of desire and loss. He tosses his long scraggly mane about like the masculine stud he is. His flesh wobbles with his exertions.
You know every note, are familiar with every nuance of his performance, but tonight he is drenched in Peppy Sauce and will be giving the performance of his career. It is 1978.
Like a bat out of hell he’ll be gone when the morning comes. But tonight, at the Rockpalast bullfighting arena, the moonlight’s shining, and like a sinner before the gates of Heaven, he’s crawling on back to you.
If you close your eyes, you can taste it, the notes melting on your tongue.
Ground Meat Cook Book, Better Homes and Gardens, 1969
Also from this book: Top-Notch Turkey Loaf, Cooties Especial, Hamburger Helper?, Meaty Surprise!, Ham Strata, Tangiers Hash, King-Sized Balls
Also from this book: Top-Notch Turkey Loaf, Cooties Especial, Hamburger Helper?, Meaty Surprise!, Ham Strata, Tangiers Hash, King-Sized Balls