Science experiment

Yet again I'm taking one step further into weird.  I don't even know if we exist in the same reality any more...

Cleaning my desk last week I found this cryptic message at the bottom of a stack of papers, "Call for kombucha mothers" with a phone number.  Flashback to a Craigslist posting offering free kombucha mothers.  It gave a phone number and said absolutely no responses to emails.  I, of course, emailed, and sure enough no response.  But I came across the same listing a few months later, and actually took down the number (two0six 555 zero8 five ONE, or somesuch - anti-robot encryption, I presume?).  So when I found the listing I immediately thought, "Hey!  I gotta call this number!"  Obvi.

There was no answer when I called.  The voicemail greeting said, "Be creative today.  Leave message  please  please please."  Awesome.  I became awkwardly excited and left a message going something like this, "Hello, my name is Catherine, and I'm calling for information pertaining to, uh, kombucha mothers.  That is, I'd like to get one.  So you can call me back at blah blah blah.  I'll be around this afternoon and tomorrow morning.  And to you sir, I say: be magical today."  Yeah, that's right, I said that in a voicemail message to a stranger.  I think to some people I sound like a crazy person.  I'm learning not to care.

We played one round of phone tag, but soon enough I had my contact on the phone.  I missed his name when he mumbled it, and rather than asking him to repeat it I just never addressed him by name.  That only added to sense of furtiveness; I felt as though discretion was necessary, that we were involved in something shady.  My contact cryptically asked whether I wanted a one or two gallon.  Confused, I didn't know how to answer, "I've never done this before" I laughed nervously.  We agreed to meet the next morning at 10am.  He seemed cagey about having me meet him at his house, and gave vague directions to a 76 station in my neighborhood instead.  I agreed, and we hung up.  I mean, I guess that's understandable - Craigslist is full of weirdos.  But at the same time... was I missing something?  Are kombucha mothers a classified substance?  Is the free exchange of weird mushroom things frowned upon?  Oh wait......  Whatever.

So this brings me to Saturday morning, waiting in a gas station parking lot with dirty hair and no breakfast, looking for a man with a fungus.  When I called him he said his wife had the car, it was too far to walk, and could I come to his place?  It was a five minute drive to a residential neighborhood.  When I turned onto his small street he was waiting by the edge of his driveway, clearly looking for me.  We nodded in recognition and I parked.

Once I met my contact any sense of cloak-and-dagger illictness disappeared.  My contact was a charming gap-toothed man with a well-tended afro who introduced himself as Mario.  He apologized for being out of it, saying he just woke up.  "Gears are starting to turn," he threw out at one point, as he described how to brew kombucha.  He briefly outlined the steps involved, I acknowledged what he said, and promptly forgot it all.  I think he and I both knew that although I had no idea what to do with the bacteria thing he was about to give me, I would shortly know everything the internet had to tell me on the subject.  Nevertheless, I learned from him that the oils in soap can be harmful to the mother, so you should rinse your clean hands with vinegar before touching it, and that it would take at least five tea bags to make.  This exchange happened underneath Mario's carport; sitting on the hood of a faded black Mustang was a one gallon jar full of apple cider vinegar and bacon fat.  At least that's what it looked like.  In actually it was layers of these kombucha colonies floating in the fermented tea that is so excellent for you.

The tupperware container I brought was totally inadequate for the thick white waxy thing Mario gave me.  It was a yogurt container-sized takeout tub leftover from pho, and it turns out the lid I had didn't match it.  Thus was I was forced to drive home holding an open container of quite vinegary smelling starter tea with an awkwardly folded kombucha mother sticking out.  Luckily I never had to make any abrupt stops, and I made it home without incident.

I'm pretty excited about this.  I love drinking kombucha.  It makes my body feel really happy.  It's good for your digestive system and your skin and your hair and your appetite and your immune system.  It's totally weird.  And I'm totally into it.  I'll tell you more about this experience for sure.  In the meantime, try a bottle.  It's expensive (which is why I want to brew it myself), and it's different, but it will totally grow on you - literally (get it? Cause it's a living organism).  And just think, in a few short months, you'll have a new hookup for sweet little kombucha babies.