“Actually, it was chowder… clam or chicken. I don’t remember anymore, the label had mostly peeled off. All that time on my shelf and I can’t even remember what the label looked like, what kind of an insensitive bastard am I,” said Sam Flagweaver of himself, clearly distraught over the loss of a hearty snack.
The label had mostly fallen off after the sides of the can slowly bulged out after years of resting on the second shelf of the 3rd cabinet from the left. The bulge was a telltale sign of botulism, but Sam still checked the “best before” date printed on the top—just to be sure.
“I remember the day I brought it home,” opined the accountant (currently unemployed), “I was in the store and I was wandering aimlessly in the general direction of the frozen chicken wings and corndogs when I passed by the soup aisle—the chowder was on special that day, two for one–and I said to myself ‘chowder? I could do chowder…’ so I bought two cans and some Lemon Pledge—I wasn’t going to eat it, that’s what I went there for in the first place.”
“I brought that soup home, all happy and stuff… The first can never even hit the pantry shelf, I heated it up and ate it right away. Then I put that can on the second shelf and never gave it another thought—until now (lunchtime)…”
“I kept telling myself: ‘better finish of that chowder today, Sam’. But I was all: ‘nah, there’s still time’… and now: it’s too late. I thought there was more time… there was no more time… dammit!”
At this point Sam punched the wall, terminating the interview. At this moment he is sitting in a corner, rocking and muttering to himself “never again… never again…”
The can of chowder is survived by a box of Saltines. Sam will not be made aware that the Saltines had turned moldy from sitting next to a spoiled can of soup until a later date and after much professional therapy.