Food Court Philosophy

“When life gives you marshmallows, roast them.” said the bearded man in the Food Court.

I had just sat down with my slice of pizza and my pink lemonade and had given him a friendly nod.  I was surprised when he spoke to me like that--people at this mall are generally not friendly.

“Oh, I see,” I responded.  “Is that like, when someone gives you a lemon, make lemonade?”

This unusual looking fellow (who looked like he just stepped out of the Grapes of Wrath), turned to me with a yellow-toothed grin and replied, “You got it!”

I took a bite of my pepperoni pizza.  I tried not to judge this poor chap.  He was dressed as if it was winter and a howling blizzard was in effect--he wore dark gray stocking cap, a heavy, black coat, and black boots up to his knees.  It was August, it was 90 degrees, and the air-conditioning in the Court was on full.

I did not want to get intellectually cozy with this man.  Still, I could not resist.  So I did answer:

“But lemons are tart, whereas marshmallows are sweet.”

“Yes,” said the bearded man.  “But they can be sticky, and life can be sticky.”

I began to be impressed, and it hit me like a half ton of dirty laundry that it is so true one cannot judge a tome by its jacket.  This fellow was an odd book, indeed, yet what was underneath was fascinating.  All of a sudden I had a warm, fuzzy feeling, which does not happen very often at the Food Court.

So I went on:

“Ah, yet the marshmallow will remain sweet, even when eaten.”

“Normally, that is the case,” rejoined the bearded man.  “But, when roasted, the chemical composition changes--the sugars are metabolized to a much more complex molecular state to which...”

He kept on speaking but I was doing some deep thinking.  This man threw me for fifty loops--I never expected this.  It was as if night had been turned inside out, and I was bathed in resplendent light.

When he came up for air, I asked him his name, and he told me it was George.  My admiration grew, and I flat out told him I was impressed.  Any judgments I had were stowed, any prejudicial misgivings were stifled.  I took a deep breath and readied myself to inquire further of this fascinating fellow--his background, his education, and so forth.  He must of anticipated that, though, because he cut in front of me with:

“I am, therefore I think.”

I sat back, eyed him and nodded.  Ah, yes, I thought; René Descartes.  He was thinking of the actual quote, “I think, therefore I am,” but it didn’t matter.  What mattered was that he did, indeed, think.  The order of words were insignificant.

Never had I heard those words uttered so sweetly.


480 Words
Writer’s Cramp
10-29-15

___________

Requirements:
--marshmallows
--pink
--cozy
--fuzzy
--sweetly