For Fork’s Sake

I have a fork. I also have a slightly erratic, neurotic, obsessive, compulsive, demented mind. Not necessarily in that order.

But back to my fork.

Actually, to be completely accurate, I had a fork. I still, however, have a slightly erratic, neurotic, obsessive, compulsive, demented mind. And a tendency to digress.

Again, back to my fork.

I had a fork and now I don’t and it’s a problem.


One of my forks, but not MY fork.


You see, once upon a time, I decided to leave my parents’ nest and venture out into the big exciting world on my own. So I did what every young person does when preparing to move out. I bought the essentials: a pot, a pan, some plates, and beer glasses. And cutlery.

Of course, over the years, I’ve added wine glasses and shot glasses and highball glasses to complement my collection of beer glasses.

But back to the cutlery.

My cutlery is pretty utilitarian. No frills, no etchings or platings or engravings or crystals or anything else. Just one end to hold onto, another end to stab, scoop or cut with.

Then a few years ago, my mom bought me a full-blown fancy-schmancy grown up comes-in-its-own-felt-lined-wooden-box type cutlery set with teaspoons and

Also one of my forks but not MY fork.

Also one of my forks but not MY fork.

tablespoons and serving spoons and tiny condiment spoons and forks for your meal and forks for your dessert and salad forks and – for the love of cheese! – just knives.

So I have more cutlery than I know what to do with. Except.

A few years ago, somehow, I ended up with a fork that wasn’t part of my utilitarian set or part of the fancy-schmancy set. An outlier, one might say. If one was inclined to make up words and claim they truly exist, that is.

Anyway, I don’t know where it came from or how it got here and I guess it really doesn’t matter. It was there, I used it. And it was perfect.

It was a deceptively simple fork, the not too broad handle tapering to a narrow neck that had a lone stripe etched horizontally across it. The tines were long, narrow and straight. It was solid without being too heavy.

Yes, I know I’m describing a fork in freakish detail. I did mention that I still have my slightly erratic, neurotic, obsessive, compulsive, demented mind, right?

The point is, as mysteriously as it appeared, it has disappeared.

My fork is gone. Gone. I don’t enjoy eating anymore.

You know what? It seems I lost my slightly erratic, neurotic, obsessive, compulsive, demented mind after all.

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  • Well, fork me that was a sad story. The silver, ware did it go?

  • Next time I go out with my metal detector, I’ll find a treasure fork for you.

  • Wow! That was a very enlightening post! You make some great points there….. Even if they are only used to stab your food.

  • The same thing happened to my favorite Diane Von Furstenberg dress. Well, not exactly, but close. I bought the dress and paid a pretty penny for it. I wore it twice. And then it was gone. That dress just grew legs and walked out of my house. That was 2 years ago and it’s never come back. I’m afraid it could be the same with your fork. Damn it anyway!

  • Damn, if I freak out over losing a fork, I can only imagine how traumatic losing a designer dress would be!

  • LOL Yes, I realize reading this post may not help one make the world a better place, but I lost my for, Babs! It’s a very serious situation! 🙂

  • Thank you anyway, but I don’t want a treasure fork. I want my fork. It’s not too much to ask for, right?

  • Dufus, mon ami. You get me. Thank you.

  • You didn’t lose it. It went the way it arrived. It mysteriously vaporised, to appear in somebody else’s kitchen, so they can wonder where it came from. Possibly even write a blog post about it 🙂

  • I know those rogue outliers well — they show up from nowhere and end up being favorites. Yes, I’m also talking cutlery. I can’t imagine one disappearing though, that would throw me way off kilter. You might think I’m kidding because you don’t know me. But let’s just say, the adjectives you used to describe your mind are not unfamiliar ones…

  • Hell, Nicky! I’ve lost husbands the same way!

  • Okay but I will need a detailed description of the fork and some clue as to it’s alleged whereabouts.

  • There are reasons to love you, Nicky. This is one of them. Your outlier fork sounds like perfection. Totally perfect. You know, after reading this, I miss your fork. I truly do. I want to know where it went. I might not sleep until it’s found.

    Nicky’s fork must be found.

  • This post epitomizes Nora Ephron’s philosophy that “Everything is copy.” And you know how I loved Nora. That’s how much I now love you. It’s genius to be able to take a lost fork and make a funny, engaging piece of writing out of it. Right now I’m going to go stick a fork in my eye out of sheer jealousy.

  • I understand. I have a spoon I am partial to. I have a couple nice sets of flatware, and then I have a mixture of different styles that make up our every day eating utensils. Hubby has, after 26 years, declared that he doesn’t care for a particular style of fork, which made me realize that I don’t care for another style, so I pick and choose our favorites when I set the table. Kind of like your fork, I mysteriously acquired a knife, only to leave it at a party and never saw it again. Things come and go…that’s life.

    Oh, I’m sorry about your fork. But then you don’t need a fork to eat cheese. 🙂

  • Ah, a kindred spirit. Welcome GG. Help yourself to some cheese, some wine. Just don’t touch my fork. 🙂

  • P.J., I’m happy to report the missing fork has been found! Oh, and if you think this is a reason to love me, you should try my chocolate chip waffles.

  • Jayne, I truly don’t know what to say. Thank you for what might just be the greatest compliment I’ve been paid, ever.

  • And thank Heavens for that, Linda! 🙂

  • I used to have a wonderful spoon that didn’t match anything. And then my ex-husband took it when he left… the rat bastard!

  • If I don’t have my special, not-part-of-any set but just-the-right-heft spoon, I can’t function, let alone eat. I feel your pain and hope you find the forker who took your one and only, true fork.

  • It’s easy to get attached to your cutlery, or is that packing tape? Really, I can totally understand the attachment. It feels right in your hand. I get it. Maybe you accidentally threw it away. I do that all the time. I’ve even found forks and spoons in my purse.

  • I would never… I don’t fork people over.

  • You know what? I have a few coffee mugs I HAVE to have my coffee in. If they disappeared I would be lost! I get it!!!

  • Baby, I love your slightly erratic, neurotic, obsessive, compulsive, demented mind. It’s just so…. demented.

  • Paula, that there is cause for justifiable homicide! The rat bastard!

  • I did find it, Cheryl. Somebody put in another drawer “accidentally”. Somebody also lost a hand. “Accidentally”.

  • Oh no, Lauren. I am quite careful with my fork. And now other people have learned – the hard and painful way – to be careful with it as well.

  • Katherine, there would be serious hell to pay if ever my mug was lost. My fork is one thing, but my mug? *shudders uncontrollably*

  • You have no idea. But I wouldn’t mind showing you 🙂

  • Here’s my theory. Your fork joined a cult and they used it to stab their leader in the eye during an impromptu overthrow. Your poor fork could be sitting in an evidence locker right now, awaiting trial! You, and your fork, may need to lawyer up.

  • I like it. I want Emilia Clarke to play me and I think Ryan Gosling should play my fork. And that’s totally a euphemism.

  • “A few years ago, somehow, I ended up with a fork that wasn’t part of my utilitarian set or part of the fancy-schmancy set. An outlier, one might say. If one was inclined to make up words and claim they truly exist, that is.”

    AHAHHAhHAHhAHhHAH! OMG! I love you, Nicky!


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