I recently went to a restaurant that served a Lettuce Guacamole Bacon Tomato Quinoa sandwich. I ordered one with extra Quinoa to go.
“Ah. Good choice, the Quinoa plus.”
The restaurant owner got to work on preparing the sandwich. As he was finishing up, I said to him, “Not enough people are hungry for Quinoa, if you know what I mean.”
“I know. There are a lotta folks closing their lids, like this,” he remarked as he shut the hinged lid of the styrofoam box containing my sandwich, “but they never want the Quinoa.”
I smiled, said thanks, paid the man, grabbed my sandwich, and made my way to the door. As I walked past the sheep in the restaurant, I glanced down at the order chits on the tables adjacent to the aisle. They all said, “No Quinoa.”
I felt a sadness, for they all ate from the same trough, forbidden to ask for Quinoa.
I had nearly got to the front of the restaurant when I saw NotOvine at one of the quiet, corner tables.
He looked up and saw me. I smiled and gave an apologetic shrug, for I had stolen the sandwich joke he once told me.
He winked as if to say, “That’s okay,” as he raised his sandwich up to take a bite, extra Quinoa spilling out from both sides.
I left the shop, happy that my father had taught me to always ask for extra Quinoa, and happy that I had a friend in this world with a similar mindset.