Posts Tagged ‘food’

I woke up with this title in my head.  I don’t think I’ve ever named a dream while still asleep.

A shabbily dressed homeless man stood in the middle of the street, autumn leaves blowing past him in the light breeze.  I stood transfixed on the sidewalk.  He was plucking an acoustic guitar, singing The Weight with his scratchy voice.

 

His voice wasn’t what captivated me, it was the fact that he had no hands.  His arms ended in stumps, yet he was still able to play quite well.   A class of schoolchildren on a field trip approached him in a line, their teacher at the head.  Each child held a bowl of applesauce and a spoon.  The teacher approached the man and scooped out a spoon of applesauce, holding it up to him.  He happily ate it and kept on playing.

One by one, still in their line behind the street musician, the children turned and fed the child behind them a single scoop of applesauce.   A woman came jogging by on the sidewalk dressed head to toe in sweats, but still style-conscious enough to be attired with many fine earrings, necklaces and rings.

“What a noble thing you kids are doing, “she said as she came to a stop.  “I can help out too.”

She plucked a ring from her finger, a flat golden heart-shaped band, and tossed it to the school kids.  It was a poor throw, and the ring bounced in the middle of the street and rolled under a nearby parked car.  My sister, who had apparently been standing beside me this whole time, ran over and stooped under the car to retrieve the ring.  She returned and gave it to me.

“Is it gold?” she asked. “You’ll know if it’s gold if it’s still warm.”  I put the ring to my cheek to test.

“Yup, it’s gold.”

The birthday party was pretty pathetic.  I don’t know who’s birthday it was, but they couldn’t have been thrilled that it was decorated with just a few wilting streamers and some halfhearted confetti drifting down from the ceiling.  And in a McDonald’s?  Ouch.

I turned from watching the party to regard the fast food kitchen behind me as I waited for my food.  Leaning against the counter had me surrounded on three sides by the cooks and kitchen equipment.   A large white tub sitting on a table in the kitchen grabbed my attention.  It was filled with half a dozen or so beef tongues awaiting preparation.  I excitedly addressed some of the cooks.

“Oh man, you guys have tongue?  I love tongue!  What’s it in?”  

“Well, it’s in some of our stuff,” replied one.

“You tell me what it’s in and I will order it!”

They seemed pretty confused that I was actually interested in chowing down on some delicious tongue.  They figured I’d  be disgusted in discovering it was an ingredient in some McDonald’s food.

“No way, I love it,” I said.  “You’ve got to serve it steaming hot, right out of the pot.”  I looked around some more and noticed the air conditioner on one of their refrigerator units.  “Oh, so you guys have your own air conditioner too?”

Soon I was negotiating a trade that would have me purchase a new A/C for them, and they would give me a tongue a week to eat.  They offered to give me a tour of their butcher’s shop where they got the tongue so I’d know it was quality.

I continued the long climb up the metal ladder.  The view of the stomach turning drop below me was mostly obscured by the bars and circular supports surrounding the ladder as it scaled the steep cliff face.   My dad climbed immediately below me, with nearly a hundred people in line following us up.  I reached the top and slid out the metal gangway that led to a rock ledge just in front of the ladder’s top.  The ledge ran for several yards to my right directly up to the entrance to the Mexican fortress carved out from the granite cliff.

We ran quickly inside before we could be seen and immediately assailed the cashier there.  He laughed at us.  “I only have $110 dollars, so the joke’s on you!”

“That’s okay,” my dad replied.  We’re not here for your till money.  To show this fact he even took out a large plastic scoop from his pocket and emptied a huge pile of change into the open register in front of the cashier.

I walked across the room and rummaged through some cupboards.  I had to move piles of snacks and pastries aside to get what I was looking for.  “Here we go!” I exclaimed.  I held up a neat stack of $5,000,000 worth of currency paper, just waiting for us to print money out on when we got back.

I kicked back with the rest of my family and threaded up an old movie projector, passing the time eating popcorn while we waited for the money to print.