Exit Sign: a Theatre of the Mind

Chapter 5 ~ October 5th

The inside of the new burger joint looked like anywhere else: the tan, brown, and gray palette of franchise America are the safest colors for hiding stains from dirt and time. They sat down with warm food in blue baskets. Dave looked at his meal and let it spark a new conversation as he picked up his burger in two hands.

"You know, I've never seen anyone take a bite out of a cheeseburger and say they hate America."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," said Billy as he poked at his chili fries.

"Right? It just doesn't happen. Good cheeseburgers must make people love America. They're a cultural staple. I think bad burgers have an opposite effect though. It's like eating a cheap burger makes people feel like they've been taken advantage of," said Dave.

"Actually, I love cheap burgers. I could eat those things all day."

"Yeah, when you're not thinking about what's in 'em."

"I mean I know they're not the best for you, but I don't even care. Sometimes, I just want a cheap quarter pounder, you know. A real cheap, nasty sandwich that refuses to get moldy."

"Okay, but it's not a quarter pound of beef. It's like a quarter pound of beef and filler stuff."

"So?"

"So, it's kind of like paying for someone to lie to you. I dunno. I guess I'm just critical of it all because I work in fast food. It's all kind of gross to me. I kind of admire what they've done while despising what they do."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Let me put it this way: they're snake oil salesmen who hit it big. Time-traveling carpetbaggers in Armani, and that's not easy to accomplish."

"Well, I guess I get where you're coming from."

"I used to think I might wanna be one of those carpetbaggers," said Dave before sinking a thick, golden fry into crimson ketchup.

"What changed your mind?"

"Well, everything that happened with Cliff and the fireworks tent rattled my courage. Made me see how easy it was to become the bad guy. That was scary. Then, this past summer I sold satellite subscriptions at the supercenter. It was too easy to lie doing that, too easy to bend the truth to make a buck, and if you didn't have much charisma to begin with then lying became a living."

"Couldn't get past your conscience then. That's respectable."

"Couldn't get past my sense of self. Also, I was short on the necessary skill sets, which is why I admire the carpetbaggers in Armani: they have special talents I have fallen short on trying to possess."

"Most of 'em are just standing on the shoulders of man-eating giants if it makes you feel any better."

"I guess you're right," said Dave. He stared at the blue basket in front of him, thinking about how unusual it was to see such green lettuce on a burger. "The whole time, during both of those opportunities, I couldn't stop thinking 'I wish I had my sister's help.' She would've done a way better job selling satellite, and if she'd been available during fireworks season, I wouldn't have had to put so much on Cliff."

"What exactly happened?"