Never Always Sometimes

“Ugh, the hyperbole.”

 

 

Julia picked a tomato that had fallen onto Dave’s napkin and popped it into her mouth. “No hyperbole here, I promise. I was in Marroney’s class...”

 

“He still lets you attend class? You haven’t been served legal papers of some sort yet?”

 

“The looks the man gives me, I’m surprised we haven’t made sweet, sweet love and eloped. But shush, let me tell you this story. It’s actually a metastory, because he’s the one who told it.”

 

Dave’s phone buzzed in his pocket as Julia started her story, and he had to fight to ignore it.

 

“So, a few years ago, this guy gets assigned as the ambassador to a small African country. He and his wife are thrilled. They’ve been going there for years for charity work or to in some other way assuage their white guilt.”

 

“Is this in Marroney’s words or are you adding your own commentary?”

 

“He didn’t have to say it, Dave. We’re so connected, I caught all the subtext.” She mockingly rolled her eyes, pulling out pizza in tinfoil from her Ecuadorean bag. “Anyway, once this ambassador and his wife arrive in the country, they want to establish a good relationship with the local tribe. They reach out to the chief, who invites them to a feast at his house, asking only that they bring a dish to share.

 

“But this couple hasn’t spent enough time in the country to learn about the local cuisine, and this happens before the time of Google, so it’s hard for them to just look up what would be an appropriate dish to bring. At a loss, the wife spots some Nutella at the supermarket and she decides that she’ll plate it all fancy-like with a bunch of cookies and that’ll be that.”

 

“Marroney did not say ‘all fancy-like.’”

 

“Dave, will you please?”

 

“Sorry.” Dave pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. There was a text message from Gretchen. Want to help me study for AP Chem tomorrow night? If the power of words was ever in doubt, a text message like this was all the proof Dave needed.

 

“So the night of the feast comes, and the ambassador and his wife bring this huge platter of Nutella that looks like something the Food Network would show to make you feel inadequate.” Julia was talking excitedly now, getting into the story. Dave put the phone facedown on the counter he’d helped build so he wouldn’t be tempted to text Gretchen back while Julia was still talking. “The chief accepts the platter and puts it on the table with all the other dishes, and then the feast begins. There’s stewed goat and a million different vegetable and rice dishes and a handful of items that the ambassador and his wife can’t recognize in the least. But the Nutella goes untouched. For the entire meal, no one reaches to scoop some on their plate. They don’t even grab a cracker that surrounds the Nutella. The ambassador starts to worry that maybe he’s somehow offended local customs, or that he’s insulted the chief by bringing something that comes in a jar. He’s so nervous he can barely eat. Dave, you listening?”

 

“Yeah,” Dave said, “just trying to picture Marroney actually telling this story.”

 

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