Why I deserve to be the Duke’s Mayo Bowl mayonnaise dumper

Everyone waits for their moment. A time in their lives when the clouds part to reveal sun shining on hallowed ground, and it’s a message from a higher power (or maybe aliens) that a calling has been revealed. Kings called this providence, for Eminem it was his one shot, while Remy in Ratatouille got struck by lightning trying to melt brie.

For me, James Dator, it was this tweet.

I would like to formally announce my candidacy as a mayonnaise dumper at the Duke’s Mayo Bowl. I know the job will have no shortage of amazing individuals, all of whom will have impressive resumes as to why they should dump emulsified sandwich lube on a successful head coach. Many will have more followers, some might have larger platforms — but I’m not here to tear them down in order to make a case for myself. For you see, I approach my entire life like mayonnaise. I believe in supporting others so they can shine and be willing to glue any ingredients together to make them easier to swallow.

From the humble grocery store turkey, to the artisanal smoked ham shaved with care at an upscale deli, all the way to the hastily boiled potatoes for a picnic side dish — I believe in the power of mayonnaise, because I am mayonnaise. As for Duke’s itself, i just grabbed this from my fridge.

I know it isn’t enough to just have a jar of mayo in your house if you want to stand out. A lot of people can boast they have the condiment too, but I would like to present some examples of why I’m shown over the years that I am qualified to understand the task at hand:

While I never really divulged by process for the two mayo-based sandwiches, know that on each occasion it was Duke’s that I pulled from my fridge. Prior to getting married I didn’t really have any specific mayonnaise feelings, but my wife was born and raised in the south, and in her world it was always Duke’s or bust.

I have grown to love its creamy perfection. It’s lubrication qualities. Whether it’s making my daughter’s lunch each morning, or spreading on the outside of a grilled cheese for a better crunch (it works, I assure you), Duke’s has been a part of my life.

Now, I want to be a part of their lives — of their mission. I need this in my life. It won’t simply be another event in a long list of engagements for James Dator, because nobody invites me anywhere. Dumping mayo on the winning coach at the Duke’s Mayo Bowl will be a defining achievement in my life.

Let’s work together. Let’s make magic. The same magic I get to make every lunchtime with your product. I’m here, Duke’s — and I’ve never been more ready.