Food and Conversation

M and W

Just talking

M and W sat across a bistro table from each other. They had not seen each other in over a year. They were sitting near a window at the fancy schmancy deli located in the old re-purposed gas station. W was having a rather large vegan salad while M was enjoying a Rueben sandwich, expensive potato chips, and a tiny child’s salad.

W: Gosh, it’s so great to see you again. I can’t believe it’s been over a year.

M: I know. I know. So how is everything back in the mountains?

W: Ya know, it’s exactly the same. Nothing changes. It’s awesome.

M: Yes well, mountains do move slowly. They talk pretty slowly, too.

W: Uh… right. What about you? How are you doing down here in the flatlands with no mountains to uh… talk to?

M: To be brutally honest, I am losing my freaking mind. I haven’t seen a mountain in over nine years. I’ve never gone that long before. I don’t know how long it will take for the men in white coats to find me if I don’t get to see some mountains soon.

W: So what are you going to do about it?

M: Well, I’ve been waiting for a bag of money to fall out of the sky and almost hit my noggin. That happens sometime. I also bought a lotto ticket. Moving is expensive and right now I’m poorer than a church mouse. Boy, those mice really got the life, ya know?

Furthermore, I would need to secure reliable vehicular transportation so that I can go on a vision quest drive through mountains looking for that exactly perfect spot dripping with mojo where I can spend the rest of my years.

W: The rest of your years? That’s an odd thing to say. I’ve never thought like that before. It’s like looking for a place to die.

M: Yes, but also a place to live. A place to live more fully than ever. I want to plant peach trees and live long enough to eat peaches from decades of harvest. I also want to get a goat. I don’t know why but I’ve always wanted a goat — and maybe even a dog. And a huge garden. A mountain stream nearby.

W: Well, it’s all about altitude. My place is up over 8,000 feet and the growing season is only a little over two months long, if that. H and I are thinking of putting in a greenhouse.

M: Ah yes, I’ve always dreamed of having a greenhouse. But actually I’m looking in the 5,500 feet to 7,000 feet altitude range. Not too cold but not as hot as in the center of the valley down below. Did I mention being completely off-grid?

W: Yes! It would be so nice not to ever mail a check again to some utility conglomerate. I, too, have fantasized about being off-grid. Of course I need a cell phone connection and internet access.

M: I’m thinking of doing away with even those things.

W: Bite your tongue! How can you say that? Being off-grid doesn’t mean you have to detach from the rest of the world. What about communication? I can’t imagine not being able to communicate with friends and family.

M: Yeah, well. It would indeed be weird without internet access. Maybe that will be the last thing to go. And no 5G!

W: Uh… yeah, right. Hey, can I ask you a question?

M: Of course you may.

W: Why the bloody hell are you cutting your sandwich with a knife and fork? It’s a sandwich. It’s to be eaten with one’s hands. What kind of freaking weirdo are you?

A silence ensued.

W: I guess it’s no wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend. I mean seriously, why would anyone cut their sandwich with a knife and fork? You just have to be different, don’t you?

M: If everyone else started eating their sandwiches with a knife and fork I would probably go back to eating with my hands.

W: Yeah, I thought it was something like that.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Complete White Feather Archive

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