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PROLOGUE
In a medium sized town, not too far from a major metropolitan city, two rival restaurant families have been feuding bitterly over which cheese to put on a proper cheesesteak for close to a decade. Cap’s Cheesesteaks does really well with the Whiz - Cheez Whiz that is. But, just down the road a bit, Monty’s promotes only provolone.
Now, as silly as it seems, this dairy debate has become a full blown curds and whey war, and these two extended restaurant families have been known to come to blows over the smallest altercation.
Tensions are running even higher today as the town’s annual tasting contest draws to a close. At stake is not only bragging rights but an opportunity to cater the Mayor’s birthday party and a lucrative contract to provide school lunch twice a week for the next year.
1
“What do you know?” scoffed Romeo as they made their way through the crowd.
“More than you,” Marco shot back.
“Yeah, right. Benny, what do you think?”
“Um… I…”
“See. He agrees with me.”
“He does not.”
“Benny, tell him.”
“Don’t put words in his mouth.”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah you are.”
“Aaaaahhhh…” mocked Romeo, dismissively waving off his best friend.
“Aaaaahhh… yourself,” countered Marco. Then he stopped in the middle of the crowded street. Spread his arms wide and definitively declared, “I’m telling you. You can snort black beans and get high.”
“What? Like in soup?”
“No. Not in soup. Dried. You grind them up.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No I’m not. They grow them down in Mexico. In the same fields where they used to grow peyote. Black beans are the bomb. Why do you think people like Chipotle so much? ”
“The queso?”
“No. It’s because it gets you right in the googly cortex.”
“What the hell is the googly cortex?”
“It’s the part of your brain that craves pleasure. That makes you all googly.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“You’ll see,” said Marco, getting the last word in yet again. “It’s gonna come out.”
And that was that. At least for a few minutes. In the meantime the guys made their way through the throng and back to their stand. Marco, who was recklessly brash and cocky took the lead. Romeo, always a little more reserved and even headed, strode confidently a half step behind. And Benny, who just wished he could be more like either one of them, followed.
The yearly street fair was the town’s biggest summer event and it was currently in full swing. It was wall to wall people flanked with tent after tent and table after table selling a crazy mishmash of buyable goods. Cheesesteaks and curly fries mingled with sweat socks and sunglasses. Chicken gyros and deep fried Oreos sat side by side with summer skirts and a table with nothing but tweezers. Just tweezers…
Romeo eyed the assortment. “Who needs this many tweezers?”
“Old ladies with lots of mole hair,” said Marco. “Kids with splinters, Benny to find his johnson.”
“Hey!”
“That’s funny.”
They continued on - laughing, joking, cracking wise. Making their way back to Monty’s. Well, not Monty’s actually. Monty’s, the cheesesteak restaurant, was a few blocks south of the fair. They were headed to the stand Monty’s had set up to sell their stuff.
And their stuff was good. Monty’s was known for using high quality ingredients like real rib eye, which the cooks shredded into crispy tender ribbons and topped with a nice, sharp provolone. Those cheesesteaks had been the bread and butter of Monty’s for the last ten or so years. They were the best in town. At least some people thought so.
They were coming up on a table that was piled high with wreaths. Not Christmas wreaths of course. It was, after all, just the tail end of summer. But a table piled high with plastic flower wreaths. Tacky purple, yellow and white ones with dark green leaves and fake brown branches. Your basic Walmart grandma crap.
Marco pointed. “Yo, you oughta paint those.”
“Why?”
“Because the girl selling them is hot.”
She was. She was smokin’ hot. But Romeo didn’t care. He wasn’t feeling it. He wasn’t feeling it at all lately. Sure, there were plenty of pretty girls in town, and it was never hard for him to find some female company when he wanted. But lately…
“You just don’t understand art.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve got no soul.”
“Hey. I got soul. Watch this.” And then, of course, Marco busted out into this absolutely terrible James Brown impersonation right in the middle of the crowded street. “Hyeh! I feel good…”
More than a few people nearby stopped and stared.
“This is embarrassing,” said Benny.
“We don’t know him,” said Romeo to anyone within earshot.
