polishing a turd

“Well, I usually start with a BIG jar of Ragu” she said in her “kiss my grits” accent. Right then and there I knew someone was in for a very disappointing meal. If you START with Ragu,...well, let me put it this way; it’s kinda like what Roscoe says about Peavy amps. “If you start with Peavy, you’ll end up with Peavy” (or something like that, BTW...happy belated birthday to Roscoe!) In other words, it AIN’T gonna get no better and if you don’t know to start with something better then you’re doomed to fail anyway. Then I hear the nice lady say “then I pour in a can of mushrooms (pause) YOU GOT FRESH MUSHROOMS!!!? WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YOU DO THAT FOR? Now you gotta cook them down!” I’m sitting there looking at Grandma waiting for the nice lady to git offa the phone and gimme my measly 200 dollar check. Grandma looks at me on occasion and rolls her eyes. The lady is talking to her son trying to explain how she makes HER spaghetti sauce. Meanwhile, the grandbaby (about 3yrs.old) is running around playing peak-a-boo with me behind walls, chairs and the nice lady’s legs. “Then I put in my spices, some oregano, some paprika…not much now! Just a little bit!” Oh brother! So after about ten minutes of this (what I refer to as polishing a turd) she gets off and makes me follow her next door to her house. Honestly, the things I gotta do to get paid!