There are two of us. The community organization really should have established rules about this. It's the first Food Truck Frenzy this town has done since before 2020 threw the world into a panic, so I guess they're figuring it out as they go.
"Hey Eddie!" Fitz says as he taps on my glass. "Guess it's you against me!" He thinks it's funny.
I roll my eyes and try to play like I'm not panicking, like I've not bet the odds on every penny I have to start this truck. But hell, after ten years of dealing with the most arrogant head chefs and pretentious customers at Le Caverne, it was either try and find a head chef position at anything half as fancy or say 'Fuck it!' and start a food truck. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Low overhead for most people; debt up to my eyeballs for me.
I open the window to let Alan Fitzpatrick - "Fitz" to everyone who knows him - have his fun. He starts in. "Maybe we should have a friendly little competition."
"Isn't all of this a competition?" I ask. "We're all out here prostituting ourselves to get a buck!"
"Yeah, but only two claiming to have the 'Best Grilled Cheese Ever!'"
"I don't claim to have the best grilled cheese ever," I say, half smiling. "I mean, it is, but I'm not leading with that."
Fitz blows raspberries and waves it off. "I've had the Havarti Slice you got. It's good." He shrugs. No big thing.
"At least mine is what it is. Wonder Bread, butter, and cheese. It's what we all remember from our childhood. Some of us don't have the need to include mac and cheese in the mix."
"It's basic, bro!" Fitz says with a shrug. "Tell you what: whichever of us has the least sales at the end of the night has to clean the other truck! What do you say?"
"You're insane!" I say. This doesn't even deserve a response.
"And you can't say no to it," Fitz says. And it's true. I can't. It's all I can do to stay in business these days. I really wish the wizards behind the committee would have stopped a second grilled cheese truck.
I shrug and nod my head. Fitz turns and runs back toward his truck, but not before pointing in my directions. "Stainless steel cleaner only, Eddie!"
Fuck him.
I step outside my truck, which I affectionately call "The Big Cheese," and have a look around. There are twelve of us for this event. We have virtually every food culture represented. There's fish tacos at Jalapeno Joe's, Slice O' Life pizza - that's pretty well a given. We've got trucks for Korean Chicken Fries, Falafel Burgers, Crawfish Boils, and even a Keto Fresh.
And then, there's Alan Fitzpatrick and me. Two fucking grilled cheese trucks. I shake my head.
The truck teams are prepping their veggies and setting up their menu signs.
Fitz had called my sandwiches basic. That hurt. It's true, the Havarti Slice is my flagship sammy. Two slices of white bread topped with a honey butter spread on the outside and two slices of creamy Havarti cheese inside. Here's my secret. Before I slap them together, I put a dollop of cream cheese and a pinch of garlic salt in the middle. It may not include mac and cheese like Fitz's does, but it is always a hit! I started making them for the staff at La Caverne two years before I started The Big Cheese, and it slam-dunked with all of them. Even Pierre, the dick-head chef, said it was the best sandwich he'd ever had.
The first wave of vehicles have begun to park along the streets. It's almost Go-Time. My awning is up, service window is opened, and it's time to do some chalk art for the menu. Up top is the Havarti Slice with my best drawing of a sandwich cut in half but held together by a thick line representing that creamy cheese interior. Just below is my almost-as-famous Bacon Pepper Jack, and coming in at number three is my frozen cheesecake-wich - that being two graham crackers held together by a sweet cheesecake filling.
And here it is, the first customers are headed our way to get their street food itch scratched. In the lead are a young couple with a Yorkshire Terrier on a leash. Jalapeno Joe's is the winner for them apparently. A group of teenagers are walking and taking in the landscape before deciding which separate ways they want to go, but at least three of them are looking in my direction. I step back inside the truck and make sure all systems are set to go. The griddle is hot, the freezer is cold, and the mini fridge is stacked with Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, and Root Beer.
I look to see the teens coming in my direction. Yes! And then,.. No! I see the new vertical LED television displaying the menu at Fitz's truck. The bright logo displaying a wheel of cheese with one slice missing - Way to be original! - and "Cheesy Wheelie" getting some great digital real estate.
When did he get that TV? It's so clear I can see it from here!
Goddamn it, Fitz!
"Hello," one of the teen girls says on the outside of the window.
"Hello! How are ya?" I ask.
"Good! Can I get a Bacon Pepper Jack?"
"Sure thing," I say. "Anything to drink?"
"Do you have Dr. Pepper?" she asks.
Damn, I don't! "Ugh! I'm sorry, I don't."
"It's ok. I'll just take a water," she says.
Shit. I knew I forgot something. How hard is it to remember to stock up on water bottles?
"I am out of bottles. Can I get you an ice water from the..." Before I can even finish, the teen boy with them points to Cheesy Wheelie and says, "Hey! He's got water bottles for free over there!"
"Oh my god, I am so thirsty!" the girl says, then turns to me and her recently-held-out wallet is now retreating back into her purse. "You know what, nevermind. We're going over there. Sorry."
Really?
The moment is gone, and the teens are already on their way to Fitz. I lean forward and see the barrel - Fitz got a fucking BARREL - stacked with what appear to be glistening and cold bottles of water. In front of the barrel is a sign reading "FREE WATER." Goddamn it, Fitz! How much did that set him back?
The park is now teeming with people. A few of them are headed in my direction. Before they get here, I squint to see a line forming outside Jalapeno Joe's, Slice O' Life, and - of course - Cheesy Wheelie. And what is it I see on the outside of his truck? Why, it's a maroon sticker with the Dr. Pepper logo with the words "Proudly serving" on the top.
Because of COURSE he is.
A chubby kid looking to be around thirteen or fourteen approaches me.
"Hey there!" I say, trying to be jovial even though I already feel like I'm going to be hosing down the Cheesy Wheelie truck tonight.
"What can I get for you?"
The kid makes a half-frown to the side of his face and scratches his chin. "Um,... I'll take..."
A fiftyish couple now line up behind him as he takes his dear sweet time to order. Come on, kid! There's three things, not a hundred!
"Havarti Slice," he finally says. "Wait!" He scratches his chin again. I heave a sigh as I glance to see at least a dozen people in line at Cheesy. "Yeah! Havarti Slice!" He says, resolutely.
"Something to drink?"
"Dr. Pepper?" he asks.
"Don't have it," I say - I'm dead inside. "How about a Root Beer?"
The chubby kid frowns. The couple behind him look to already be changing their minds. Finally, the kid nods once and says, "Sure."
"All right, that will be seven dollars," I say. The kid looks like I just told him that angels had been spotted in this very park. "Um, I only have five...dollars," he says.
I look toward the ceiling and wince. The couple behind him are now in line for Slice O' Life pizza.
I heave a sigh and say, "Sure." The kid's eyes light up as he hands me the well-worn bill with Honest Abe on it.
I take it and try to play it off. "Don't tell anyone!"
"Oh, yes sir," the kid says.
*****
Two hours into the event, I do eventually gain some customers who pay exactly what the price of the sandwiches are. I've sold at least thirty Havarti Slices and twelve Bacon Pepper Jacks. The cheesecake-wiches aren't doing as well as I hoped, but I finally have some cash in the till and am doing much better with the credit card reader and iPad. Still, my lines are paling in comparison to Fitz.
By the time the first hour was gone, my girlfriend and partner-in-crime, Amber, had arrived to help. She picked up a few packages of bottled water so those are going strong. Of course, they had to be free of charge to customers because Fitz is giving those away.
As the second hour starts, I must tell you that I'm not proud of what I did.
There must be at least a thousand people in the park, so when I happen to see the chubby indecisive kid who'd spent his last five dollars on me, I know what I have to do.
"Hey kid!" I say, gesturing with my hands until he sees me. He looks quizzically at me and points to himself. "Yes, you!" I say.
He walks with the speed of a drugged tortoise and at last reaches my truck.
"I will give you another sandwich for free if you'll do me a favor!"
Amber, who has been cleaning up as we go, looks at me. "What are you doing, babe?"
I hold my finger out to her, signifying 'one minute' and keep my eye on the kid, whose eyes have blossomed. Free sandwiches are definitely his love language.
"What do you need me to do?" the boy asks.
I point to the Cheesy Wheelie truck. "See that truck over there?" I ask.
He nods.
"He and I like to prank each other sometimes. Anyway, you see that TV he has there?"
The kid nods again.
"I need you to find out where it's plugged into. Don't let anyone see you, but I need you to unplug the TV."
Amber, who has been scrolling through her Instagram feed, hears this. "Oh my god, Eddie! Seriously?"
I shush her without turning my eyes from the chubby kid. "Do it and I'll give you a sandwich when you get back!"
The kid frowns and continues to look confused in the direction of the Cheesy Wheelie. "I don't know, sir."
"Call me Eddie," I say. "Just look for it for a few seconds. Then just yank it out if you find it. If you can't find it, I'll give you half a sandwich anyway."
The kid is still frowning but finally begins nodding. "Ok. You're sure I won't get in trouble."
"Not if nobody sees you doing it!" I say. "But no, the owner is an old buddy of mine."
Amber utters a hearty laugh at this.
"Okay," the kid says, and slowly disappears into the swarm of people.
"You've lost your mind," Amber says to me.
I shrug. "This is war, Amber! I can't keep losing to that guy!"
"You're going to get yourself sued," she says, "or thrown in jail?"
"For hiring a kid to unplug a damn TV set?"
She turns her attention back to her phone. And I wait patiently. I sell another couple sammies and the kid still hasn't returned.
"Come on, kid!" I say in a hushed tone.
"This is ridiculous," Amber says, not looking away from her phone.
At last, it happens. Even from two hundred yards away, I see Fitz's TV screen go black and a spark flashes from the side of his truck. A couple seconds later, I hear Fitz yelling, "HEY! WHAT THE HELL? HEY! COME BACK HERE, KID!"
Shit.
The chubby kid is running - he's actually RUNNING - right towards me. "No!" I say, motioning for him to run away. And screaming!
I hide my face in my hands. Now my phone is buzzing. I know who it is. I look up, as the kid LEAPS into my truck. "HELP!" he says before wheezing and leaning forward to catch his breath.
I look back toward the Cheesy Wheelie and see Fitz gesturing to me with his phone. I shake my head.
This really pisses him off. He's got the screen back on by now, and then sends me a text message.
"Brah, what the actual fuck?"
I pay it no mind. By now, Amber is already cooking a sandwich for the kid.
*****
Another hour has come and gone and business is light. Most of the people are gathered around the live country band playing a slightly out-of-tune version of "All My Exes Live in Texas."
I'm cleaning up the counter when I realize I can't find my keys. I call out to Amber, who is outside retracing the chalk art.
"Baby?" I call out.
"Yeah?" she says from outside.
"Do you have my keys?"
"No," she says.
And that's when the loudest, most obnoxious alarm begins blaring from the front seat of the truck. I leap and bump my head against the ceiling, immediately yelling from the pain - and the noise, the god-awful noise.
Amber is yelling over the alarm. She's holding her hands over her ears. "What the hell, Eddie?!"
"I didn't do it!" I yell back, holding my hands over my ears as well.
By now, the crowd of patrons is looking in our direction. I run to the front of the truck and start turning over every object I can find to locate the keys.
And then, miraculously, the alarm stops. It has been so loud that there's is still a painful echo filling the air.
I hold my hands to my temple as I now have a splitting headache.
"What the hell happened?" Amber asks, climbing back inside the truck.
"I have no idea!" I say, "I was looking for my keys when..."
I am cut off by the obnoxious blaring alarm booming once again, killing the silence and destroying our hearing.
Just before it goes silent again, I have a sudden idea. I look toward the Cheesy Wheelie and see a wickedly smiling Fitz holding a key fob in my direction.
Holding MY key fob.
"No!" I say to no one in particular. "Son of a bitch has my keys!"
"What?" Amber asks.
I squint to get a closer look at the truck and see the damned chubby kid eating a Cheesy Wheelie sandwich!
"Of course he got the same kid!" I say, making the connection.
Amber rolls her eyes and looks back to her phone.
*****
I sprayed one last time onto the surface of the Cheesy Wheelie, then wiped it down with a towel.
I looked at my phone display. God, was it really midnight already?
"All right, Fitz," I say, stepping out of the truck. By now, Amber had been long gone. I'd gotten myself into this and I'd be getting myself out of it. "It's officially over, and I'm going home."
Fitz sits at a picnic table nearby and looks up from his iPad. He smiles, and it's actually a pretty genuine smile. "Did you get the chrome polish?"
"Yes, I got the damn chrome polish," I say, putting my phone in my back pocket. "We should all go to bed."
"You gotta say it, first," Fitz says.
"Say what?" I ask, then realize what he's talking about. "Fine. I'll say it."
"Come on, now," Fitz says, beckoning me to continue.
"Fitz," I say, "You officially have the greatest grilled cheese sandwich in all the world."
Fitz stands and a smile widens across his entire face.
The war was over.
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7 comments
"Like druged tortoise" I saw last two years that they can run once out of that shell. Fine storyline Bryan.
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Ha! Guess I should have studied tortoises more! Thanks for the kind words Philip!
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You are welcome.
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Ha! Great story. I guess it's true, when businesses compete the customer wins, because that kid was cleaning up sandwiches left and right :) Funny premise, good dialogue, and good pacing. The unease of the narrator is palpable and only grows stronger with each passing frustration. The irritation he gets from fickle customers is understandable and infuriating - all the more so, since he can't very well yell at them. It gets so bad he tries to hit below the belt. Well, we can't really blame him as it sounds like he's got a lot riding on th...
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Thanks Michal. Appreciate the comment and thanks for reading! Truly appreciate it! These prompts have really helped me to move beyond the block i have had. Looking forward to more of your content!
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Good dialogue, has the anthony bourdain vibe, i like how its all about the competition and keeps it real.
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Thanks Scott! I didn't have Anthony Bourdain in mind when I wrote it but now I can see it! Glad you enjoyed it!
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