Forgotten absurdities – the lost sausage

A laugh from the past intended to make you smile and, if only for a moment, help you escape the “default upside down.” It was a winter day in ’82/’83, during what we called ironically the “Golden Era”, a time when groceries’ shelves were nearly bare. Oil and butter were rationed with coupons, allowing just 1 liter of oil per family each month, and 100 grams of butter per person per month. Bread was only available at specific times of the day, while meat and eggs were mostly a distant dream. Many people sourced food directly from farmers or relatives living in rural areas. Thankfully, we were fortunate as my grandparents could supply us with meat, and my father received his Christmas portion allocated to military personnel. This meat supply allowed my mother to make 10-15 pairs of sausages, which my father then took to a smokehouse. It was a late, dark afternoon when my mother instructed my father to bring the smoked sausages back. As he was just returning from work, my father was in his uniform and was hesitant to be seen carrying sausages in it – officers were restricted from carrying items unrelated to their duties when in uniform. But given the impending closing time of the smokehouse and the approaching Christmas holidays, there was no time for him to change into civilian clothes. My mother warned him that if he didn’t retrieve the sausages, they would disappear. Reluctantly, in his uniform, my father went and retrieved the sausages but lost one pair along the way from the car to our apartment. The next day, the phone rang, and I answered to hear a joyful woman’s voice requesting, ‘Sweetheart, may I speak to your father?’ I handed over the phone, and after a brief discussion, he ended the call. When I questioned him about the conversation, he said that the woman had begun with, ‘Colonel, you’ve lost your sausage!’ before bursting into laughter.. It turned out she lived nearby and had observed my father carrying the sausages from her window and she saw the pair of sausages fall out of the plastic bag. In those times, one might have chosen to keep the lost sausages, but she couldn’t resist teasing my father about “his lost sausage” – opting for the singular for comedic effect, as the plural wouldn’t have been as amusing. Infinite Love, Infinite Kiss.