Notes from a Trip: Mayophobia

On board the Lincoln Service/Missouri Mule train from Chicago to Kansas City, one can usually find Pat in the last car manning the cafe. One benefit of train tavel is that you can actually get up and wobble down the aisle to the cafe car and purchase a drink or a snack. The fare is little better than airline food, and catering to a captive audience, it is quite pricey. But the pleasure of getting out of your seat and taking a stroll to get a coffee, microwaved hamburger or packaged deli sandwich is a bit of a pleasure.

Pat handled the cafe car on both days I traveled, so she recognized me from my frequent trips for coffee. Being about 7PM with my diabetic tummy needing some food, a trip to Pat was in order.

A lady was ahead of me and she got one of those awful Asian ramen noodle cups and a turkey and swiss sandwich. As Pat was heating the noodles, the lady opened the packaged sandwich and started to cover it with several packs of mayo...just like I was going to do as I had decided that was to be my choice (minus the noodles).

"OH!! I can't STAND the sight of mayonnaise"!!!!! Pat screamed while turning her head and shading her eyes from the offending condiment.

She handed the lady her change and the hot noodles while not looking at the mayo doused sandwich. "I am sorry, the sight of it makes my skin crawl, I can just imagine being buried in it.OOOOOOHH ahhhhgh!" She shuddered as the poor customer slinked away from the counter, feeling like she had just asked for a shit sandwich.

Needless to say, I slathered my mayo on mine out of sight of Miss Pat.

Mayoitis. That is the formal name for mayonnaise phobia, at least according to my net research. Apparently it is somewhat common; there is even a Facebook page for mayo phobics.

As for me, put mayo on a dead horse ass and I would probably eat it.

I am Don, I am a mayoholic... HI DON!