Stay Strong Until You Get the Secret Sauce
A publication on medium rejected my article for the 10th time.
The piece I wrote takes you through a whirlwind journey of how my buddies and I finally got our hands on a Rally’s Chilli Cheese Hot Dog. Towards the end of the story, I reveal the secret sauce that ensures victory when all odds are against you.
I will be fine. After all, I have the sauce packed in a sachet safely in my pocket. But what about you? You must feel so helpless with all that is going on during these unprecedented times. Poor Baby! Your plight, without the sauce, I am terrified.
It should be tough multi-tasking, a Netflix marathon on one screen, an office Zoom meeting on the other, the Xbox controller on your right hand, your child’s feeding bottle on your left, your toddler crying his heart out, the washing machine rumbling in the background, and chicken breast burning in the oven.
What if Netflix triggers a burst of uncontrollable laughter the same instant you accidentally click on the video icon in your Zoom window? Your only option would be to curb your laughter as hard as you can and put on your best poker face to face your manager.
Oh, wow, that sounds terrible.
If only you had the sauce, the secret one I have, you could have stomped your right foot hard, split open the sachet underneath, let the sauce gush out and cover your webcam, put your manager back in the dark, and laughed your heart out.
You are in a lot of pain here. I can feel it because I am aching too, looking at all the sachets of the secret sauce neatly stacked in my bathtub, when it’s rightful resting place is in your purse.
But, I can’t fathom the pangs of anxiety you go through each time you set foot in your local Costco. The walk to the back of the store towards the aisle that carries toilet paper must be the journey of your life. Your inner voice gasping, “Will it be there or not?”
Why? That medium publisher, why?
If she had the sauce, she would have got four sachets from her purse in one slick move, peeled the top-right edges in a split second, channeled all her angst on the fiery sauce in the pouch and let them jets fly in all directions. Simultaneously, hitting the eyes of the burly guy closing in from the back, blinding the old lady trudging towards the sacred aisle, tinting the glasses of the gym-rat sauntering in from the other side, and showing the hoarding lady pushing an overflowing cart who the boss is.
While the competition rubbed their eyes in defeat, our warrior princess would have returned with her trophy — the last standing pre-used discarded Tropicana cardboard box to pack all her groceries in.
I sense such despair in you when you read my words, please, don’t make that move of desperation. Don’t burn your stimulus check on any one of the hundreds of phony sauces available online. Never in a million years will they bring you victory when all odds are against you.
It’s baffling why the editor of the publication hasn’t squirted the sauce all over their eyes yet. But still, I believe it should be just a matter of time.
Until then, Stay Strong!
