Steak and Wine
To be quite frank, nothing beats having a steak for dinner right after a busy, blood-boiling week of work. In any case, that’s what I believe in, and I do not fail to show it. While at work in my butcher shop, I’m often asked how I am able to maintain my mouth watering physique at such an age, and the answer is simple: I have a nicely made steak every Friday.
Do you know what the advantages of eating steak regularly are? Due to the high amounts of vitamin B12, zinc, and protein found in red meats, my muscles, bones, and immune system have been everything but lackluster. However, recently, my mental health has been dwindling.
One week ago, my eldest daughter had gone missing, and the event has been a heavy burden and strain for my family and me. My wife will often come home with sunken eyes and matted hair, making no effort to lighten up her appearance even a little bit. My youngest daughter since then barely steps outside of her room, the only times of her appearance being during mealtimes. The atmosphere of our own home is something we can barely even tolerate anymore, and that’s why, as a good husband and father, I will make steak. It may not bring back my daughter, but perhaps it will bring back the hope in the eyes of my remaining family.
I take great pride in the way I handle my meats; when referred to, I am not simply called Chuck, but “Chuck the Butcher” in its entirety. I find and harvest my own meats, prepare them in my own shop, and serve them to my own customers, and nobody dares to file a complaint. So tonight, I will serve my family my best steak yet, and for my lovely wife a tall glass of wine.
And yet...tonight did not go as planned. The kitchen was a mess, as I had been slaving away in there to create the perfect dinner for my perfect family - I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this meal, and my wife had the audacity to throw a fit over her steak. Over what? A single, long strand of hair? I understand how that could make one upset, but I did not understand why my wife decided to throw a screaming fit about it. As we exchanged harsh words back and forth, she continued to bring up the topic of our missing daughter and constantly threatened me with the police. As much as it pained me to do, I had no choice but to send my youngest daughter back to bed.
Now, red coats the floor of the dining room - perhaps from the wine. And with my missing daughter, I now have a missing wife.