“MACHO NACHOS?” A waiter has arrived at Matthew’s elbow, holding what looks like a tray that must, surely, hold several orders of nachos.
“Oh,” Matthew says. “Yes.”
The waiter smiles and places the entire platter in front of Matthew, on the bar. It is so large that it reaches beyond what, observing the informal boundaries civilization provides us in settings where we are forced to be side by side with our fellow humans, would be Matthew’s space. He looks down at the platter and is immediately reminded of the town dump in Lincoln. It too was a large mound, irregularly massed, with a segregation of toppings such as this, the discarded washing machines ganged in one area, furniture in another, as the pepper rings, sour cream, and salsa each have their own areas on this mound.
The group beside him has turned, as a group, as if geared to a common shaft, to look at Matthew and his heap of chips. They’re smiling, curious to see how the old guy will handle this.
“Looks like a map,” says one of the girls, but not the right one, not the right one.
Looks inedible, says BW. That’s processed cheese, you know. I wouldn’t touch this if I were you. Give it to the kids.
“I think you’ve got all of the basic food groups there,” says one of the boys, not the girl in the elastic skirt.
All the food groups and one of the deadly sins, says BW.
“All the food groups and one of the deadly sins,” says Matthew.
Very good! says BW. Now that’s wit.
“Huh?” says the boy, indicating that, among the responses he had expected to hear, this wasn’t one. “Oh, yeah,” he says, brightening. “Um, gluttony, right?”
“Right.” Matthew pushes the platter along the bar, toward the kids.
“The seven deadly sins are — ” He pauses to give any of them a chance to supply one. They regard him with restrained curiosity, as if he were their teacher; he’s struck by the notion that he is. “Gluttony, pride, covetousness, anger, envy, sloth, and — ” He pauses again, and he marks the pause with a sip of his drink, as Liz would have marked it with a puff on her cigarette, when she was smoking. “Lust,” he says, turning quite frankly toward the elasticized girl.
“Whoa!” says one of the group, and the others burst out laughing, some even applaud. Matthew isn’t quite what they expected to find here at the bar at Ike’s, and surprise is one of the things they’re after.
To the girl Matthew says, “My name is — ” What name? Matthew Barber? These kids wouldn’t give last names. That would make me seem hopelessly antique. Or maybe that would have its charm.
Remember what I said about these girls being in love with their fathers.
No, I want to meet her in her idiom.
Impossible.
Well, something close to it. Matthew. No. Not that asshole. Matt?
She’s smiling at him, waiting.
“ — Bert.”
“Bert”! screams BW. I would never permit myself to be called “Bert.” “BW” if you must, but never “Bert.”
“BW — that’s what my friends call me.”
“Hello, BW,” she says. “I’m Tracy.”
Well, well, says BW. Is this my chance, then? Am I on? This may prove to be an interesting evening. I think chumminess is called for here. Make them think I’m interested in all of them equally, that I want to be their pal, not that I merely want to get into Tracy. Stand aside and watch this, Matthew. You may learn how to live.
[to be continued]
In Topical Guide 550, Mark Dorset considers Food: Nachos; and Sins: Seven Deadly: Gluttony from this episode.
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🎧 550: “Macho Nachos?”