Due to the overwhelmingly underwhelming response to my post yesterday, I have had to decide for you which story to write. I chose the matzo ball soup one as it lends itself more readily to humour, and I’m in the mood for that today. So, I offer up my flash fiction inspired by my trip to New York. It’s South Africa tomorrow, where we stay in a compound surrounded by razor wire and armed guards. Fertile ground for a story I hope.
p.s. I suppose this story should come with a strong language warning. I don’t think it’s gratuitous.
Monday Lunch Special
‘Hey, Jacob, Matzoh man’s in.’
Jacob wiped the lunchtime sweat from his brow and grimaced.
‘What is it this week? Too hot, too cold, not enough chicken fat?’
‘He ‘aint ordered yet,’ said the waiter, ‘I’ll go ask him.’
Every Monday for months the same guy had ordered up a bowl of Jacob’s famous Matzoh ball soup and made some lame complaint. The diner’s staff was well versed in dealing with him, joking about it after the lunchtime rush. Jacob’s pride, however, was wounded. His boyfriend Peter didn’t seem to understand his frustration and generally brushed aside Jacob’s Monday night moans.
‘It’s only soup, girlfriend,’ he’d said last week, ‘lighten up.’
Sure enough, Matzoh man ordered the soup; five minutes later it came back to the kitchen.
‘So?’ asked Jacob.
‘Too cold,’ said the waiter.
‘Fuck him,’ said Jacob.
‘Yeah,’ laughed the waiter, ‘you could. He’s one of your lot. Not Jewish though.’
Jacob’s fury exploded.
‘Not fucking Jewish!’
Jacob looked round the shelves and pounced on a jar of cayenne pepper.
‘Right,’ he said, liberally sprinkling the hot powder over the bowl, ‘See how he likes that’
The waiter took the bowl, smirking.
Jacob waited for a minute then threw off his apron.
‘This, I gotta see.’
The commotion in the restaurant had already begun and Jacob pushed his way through the crowd. Matzoh man was sweating, clawing desperately at his own throat.
Jacob folded his arms and narrowed his eyes.
‘You sorry little bastard Peter,’ he said, ‘consider yourself dumped.’
Jacob turned towards the kitchen, then paused. He spun back to face his stunned boyfriend.
‘Now who’s got the balls?’ said Jacob triumphantly.
copyright: flyingscribbler 2010.