All good things must come to an end. Life goes on. Insert bland maxim here. As the long-standing housing situation breaks up and we each go our separate ways, I thought it only fitting to commemorate the time spent together by revisiting a tale from months back--a typical day at the Trace.
Friday afternoon
5:53pm
"The Trace"
Ben: Whew! Another day of non-stop excitement at the bureaucracy office in the books. Nothing to do now but kick back and enjoy a few hours of reading before bed. I've almost finished that new grammar textbook I checked out from the library. Almost too much excitement for a Friday evening, I tell ya. But, hey—you only live once. First, though, I've got to get some dinner. [checks fridge] Ah, yes! The other half of my Publix sub left over from lunch. That'll hit the spot. Almost as good as the ol' S&S cafeteria. [unwraps sandwich] There's no better way to wind down after a hectic day than sitting down to a peaceful meal at home.
[door flies open]
Tony: WHOOOO! I tell you I killed my quads in the gym. Squat 400 pounds 13 times. I was only supposed to do a set of 10, but these girls were, you know, watching intently, so I grinded out out 3 more for good measure. Didn't want to disappoint. You ever try the squat rack?
Ben: I...yes.
Tony: Boy it'll do a number on you. I feel great. [drops down, does forty pushups, jumps back up, throws down a two-liter protein shake containing several clearly live goldfish] Whew! That was a good appetizer, but my stomach is about to eat itself. I need food. Fortunately I still have--[stops abruptly at the sight of the sandwich]--what's that?
Ben: Publix sub.
Tony: That's not my Publix sub, is it?
Ben: Nope. My Publix sub.
Tony: [checks fridge] Dude, that is my sub. There's no other sub in here.
Ben: This has to be mine. I left it there not six hours ago.
Tony: All I know is I left half a sub in here yesterday, and I definitely didn't eat it since then. I had a 9-egg omlette for dinner and 16 waffles for breakfast.
Ben: I think you're confused.
Tony: About a sub? No way. My memory regarding sandwiches is like steel trap. Here, let me take a bite, I'll tell you for sure if it's mine.
Ben: Get away! That's my dinner!
Tony: It's my sandwich!
Ben: Mine!
Tony: Mine!
Jay: Children, please.
[Tony and Ben look around abruptly]
Tony: How long have you been standing there?
Ben: And why are you wearing a robe?
Jay: I heard your calls of distress. And the robe is comfortable.
Ben: Let me guess--you crashed the server again, and you're waiting for it to recover?
Jay: [looks at floor] ...yes. But...in the meantime, I hope to remedy this conflict. Tell me, what seems to be the problem?
Tony: He's trying to steal my sandwich.
Ben: It's mine. If it isn't, where'd mine go?
Tony: Maybe you left it under a stack of books.
Ben: Maybe you accidentally blended yours in that shake. And isn't there a dumbbell around here that needs lifting?
Jay: Children, children.
Ben: Dude, stop calling us that.
Jay: I will not. But I will resolve the situation in a manner that is equitable and fair.
Tony: Okay.
Ben: Let's hear it.
Jay: To settle this argument of who is the rightful owner of the sandwich, we will compromise. [produces a large kitchen knife] I'll cut the sandwich in two, and each of you will receive half.
Tony: [falling to his knees] NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Ben: Um...right. Whatever. I can't expect you to take sides. I suppose half's better than nothing.
[Jay raises knife.]
Tony: No! Don't cut it! You can't! Just let Ben have the sandwich.
Ben: Hey! All right! [reaches for the sandwich, but Jay stops him]
Jay: Wait! Tony, why did you say to let him have the sandwich?
Tony: [sobbing] Because it's wrong. I would rather let someone else have the sandwich that for it to be hacked into sad little pieces of its former self.
Jay [puts his hand on Tony's shoulder]: Compassion like that can only come from a man who truly loves his sandwich.
Ben: Do what?
Jay: Tony, you clearly are the rightful owner of the sandwich.
Ben: WHAT?!
Tony: [clutching sandwich tightly] Thank you! Thank you! Your wisdom prevails again, Jay.
Jay: Go, my son. Nourish yourself.
Ben: Dude...it's a sandwich!
Tony: [to sandwich] I almost thought I'd lost you! [retreats to kitchen]
[Ben glares at Jay.]
Jay: Ben, there's a lesson to be learned here. And that lesson is that nothing can break the bond between a man and his sandwich.
Ben: I hate you.
Jay: Nothing!
Ben: Yeah, "nothing." As in, "I have nothing to eat for dinner, now."
Jay: Man does not live on 7-grain whole wheat bread alone, friend.
Ben: I keep telling you, that's blasphemous.
Jay: Is it, Ben? Or is it that the truth hits close to home?
Ben: [sniffing] Why do I smell oil and vinegar on your breath?
1 comment:
Ben. This makes me miss you. Wow. Well done!!!! I'm picturing this whole scene at "the Trace." Really. Impressive.
(Would even be inspiring except I'm already past deadline on a far less exciting writing assignment...)
Your friend,
Amanda
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