Déjà Food!

Like something out of The Twilight Zone or a scary Karen Black movie circa the mid 1970s, or maybe just a weird dream — the kind that, when you try to resurface into wakefulness, makes you feel like you’re drowning instead and you’re screaming in slow motion, and when you wake up you hear a foghorn that sounds just like your slo-mo screams, and then you realize you don’t live anywhere near a lighthouse or the water and you have to pinch yourself to see if you’re still dreaming, and the next morning when you wake up for real you find a chunk of your hip missing where you’d pinched yourself while dreaming, and in its place is a piece of Silly Putty molded into the gap, and you can’t quite make out what Marmaduke is trying to do in that reverse image. Like that. That’s how I think of my recent breakfast experiences.
I mean, what’re the chances of one girl having the same breakfast two weekends in a row? I’m no Jimmy the Greek, but I’m willing to bet the chances are — how do you say here in America — “slim to none”???
Just look at these dishes from Village Natural, and tell me it’s not spooky:

Only $6.95! Good for you!
Vegetarian Italian Sausages
Served with Sautéed Mushroom and Onions,
Scrambled Tofu and Rosemary Home Fries
(Not pictured: Scrambled Tofu)
Left:  Saturday, 23 August 2003
Right:  Sunday, 31 August 2003

I was FLOORED! My mind felt as scrambled as the tofu!
I didn’t know what was going on. How could this have happened? Was it merely a case of déjà food, or had I stepped into another universe, one where this kind of occurrence is considered ordinary and nothing worth jumping off the nearest pier into the inky waters of the Hudson?
As you can imagine and understand, I wandered around the West Village in a fog (with no horn blaring, which confused me even more). Mixed in with the tourists, no one gave my mush-brained meandering a second look or even a first. But then, in the doorway of a bodega, I received a signal that I had indeed stepped into that alternate universe where up is down and right is left and right is wrong and two wrongs may indeed make a right. And here was that signal:

Me-yow!  Wow!
Cats with thumbs, scientifically classified as “mitten kittens”, are a sure sign that all is not as it should be.
The mystery’s not solved, but at least I know I’m not going bonkers!