Finding balance in a grilled cheese

The bumps in the road were getting worse and he was feeling every hit through the shoddy seat suspension of his truck. How could he be so lost? He looked up the directions online and followed them precisely, as far as he could tell. The end of summer food truck festival was tomorrow, and he needed to be there and checked in by 10 tonight to be able to compete. He poured all his time and resources into this venture and neglected too many other responsibilities to miss this now. After his short engineering career, 3 years before he burned out, ended and he had the opportunity to finally follow his own path. His parents weren’t too keen on this decision since they spent all that money for him to go to engineering school, but they understood he was unhappy and supported his decision. It’s not every day that you get the chance to start your grilled cheese food truck dream.

              A loud pop snapped him out of his thoughts, and he quickly regained control of the truck and pulled over. He cut the engine and hopped out to see what the damage was. The rear driver side tire was completely flat, a large nail and chunk of cactus sticking out. He sighed and rolled up his sleeves, ready to get his hands dirty changing this tire. As he was taking out the spare from the rear a voice came from his right. “Hi there, having some car issues?”. He turned to see a short older man, maybe sixties or early seventies, standing behind a fence on his front yard. He had a pair of thick black rimmed glasses, faded yellow polo shirt and blue slacks. He didn’t even notice the house he stopped in front of, it was a non-descript ranch with paint like the surroundings that made it seem to melt into the landscape.

              “Yeah, got a flat,” he nodded towards the flat tire.

              “Need a hand? I could help or call someone if you need.” The man replied.

              “Calling isn’t necessary but if you want to help it would be appreciated.” This man was clearly looking for something to do and someone to talk to, so he decided to do his good turn for the day and let him help. He got out the tire while the old man setup the jack. “I’ll get the jack from here; this thing is pretty heavy.”

              “Food truck, eh? These were never around in my day, had to get a stationary location,” the old man gave a little laugh. “What do you make in this thing?”

              “Grilled cheeses! Gourmet and specialty,” he started removing the flat, “I’m heading to a food truck festival and competition up north but somehow made a wrong turn somewhere and my GPS can’t find a signal.”

              “Did you pass a large flowering saguaro?”

              “Yes, it was hard to miss with its large pink flowers”

              “Did you take the right?”

              “Right? I didn’t know there was an option.”

              “Well, that’s your issue, the sand likes to accumulate on the left road. It’s a fork. Just drive over the sand and you’ll find the highway a bit down the road. You’d probably already be there if you took that left,” the old man gave another chuckle, “Don’t worry, this has happened quite a bit.”

              “Hey thanks, at least I know how to get back on track,” he put the spare on and started tightening the bolts, “You said you needed a stationary location back in your day? Are you a chef?”

              “Was a chef, I retired some years ago,” the old man took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt, “Put my heart and soul in my restaurant. Made a decent living but never broke out like I dreamed I would.” He replaced his glasses.

              “Yeah? I sort of feel that way with my previous career. I was an engineer, 80 plus hour weeks and just kept getting passed over for promotions and was eventually offered a position that would not require all my training and would make me miserable, so I quit. Thanks for all the help, how about I make you one of my grilled cheeses as thanks?”

              “That sounds lovely, I am getting a bit hungry.” The old man looked towards his house “You can come in and make it if you want so you don’t have to start up your truck. And I have lemonade!”

              “Sure, that sounds great.” He wrapped up putting on the spare and grabbed his supplies and went into the house and started making his spicy barbacoa grilled cheese for the old man. They sat on his front porch with tall frosty glasses and lemonade and started eating.

              “Wow this has quite a kick to it!” the old man said, “And super rich!”

              “Yep, I’m hoping this will take me to the top three at the competition!”

              “Well, it is good but lacks balance,” the old man said, “Going all in like this might win over the burn your mouth with fatty meat crowd but to truly be seen as a master you need to understand nuance. It’s like life, when you were an engineer, you said you were putting in so many hours but not getting anywhere right?”

              “Yeah…”

              “Could’ve come to that conclusion with much less of your life used up, eh? I wish I could go back and maybe spend a little less time on my career and maybe have found a wife or dabbled in other activities and hobbies. Now I’m too old for the business and at a loss for what to do now.”

              “Well, I’ve got time once the truck gets up and running.”

              “That’s what I used to say, ‘Oh in just a little bit I’ll have time’.”

              Wanting to get off this topic he changed course, “What do you suggest I do with my recipe?”

              The old man got up and went back inside. Through the window he could be seen going to the pantry and grabbing a jar. He closed the door and came back outside. “Try adding this, it should balance out your sandwich nicely.”

              He took the jar and spread some on the sandwich he was eating. The old man was right! It cut through the spice and added a depth that he had never created before. “Wow! This is incredible. I never would have thought to add something like this.”

              “Go ahead and take that jar, I’ve got plenty. And remember to try and add a little balance to your life too.” The old man smiled and winked.

              “I will, thank you.” He left and turned his truck around waving to the old man as he headed back to the fork in the road to take the correct route to where he was going. He managed to get to the hotel and check in on time and make it to his room just in time to pass out on the bed from his long day of travel.

              The day of the food truck festival came, and he was wedged between a chili truck and a crepe truck. His newly jammed grilled cheeses were a hit and he wished he had another jar or two because he sold out by noon, luckily saving a few for the judges. With his newfound down time, he visited his neighbor the crepe truck and found the owner, a haggard looking woman, looking out at all of the other trucks with lines. She turned and saw him “Coming on over to gloat about your sales?”. She was smiling so no ire was intended.

              “Nope just looking at the competition. I’d like to try your special please.”

              “Showing pity I see,” she turned and made him a crepe. It looked delicious but was cloyingly sweet. “You don’t like it,” she frowned.

              “No, it’s pretty good but very sweet. You need to balance it out with some savory flavors, just like life you need to have a healthy balance. Learned it from a friend,” he shuffled on his feet a bit, nervous to say what he wanted to next, “Say, would you like to go get some coffee or something after this?”

              “What about the award ceremony? You’ll most likely take home a prize, shame to miss out after so much work.”

              “Eh, they’ll send me a message or something, this seems more fun.”

              “Ok, it’s a date.”