The street lights in the freshly renovated downtown turned on just as the group arrived. Blair looked at the setting sunlight streaking past and in between the large buildings. The best parties were at night and the sun wanted to stick around. But the monolithic skyscrapers were club bouncers telling the sun to move along; it’s not wanted here. Perhaps there was a time when the world went to sleep when the sun left, but anymore the sun misses out on at least half of the city’s adventures. As the space-placed fireball slowly stopped trying to shove its way past the city skyline, the street-side guitarists slowly traded out their daytime territory to their saxophone counterparts. Everything in the city, including the city itself, was becoming a bit cooler.
Outside of Big Pizza--arguably the best pizza place in town--two groups of people stood behind or around two foldout tables on the large sidewalk. They were on either end of the pizza place’s sauce-colored awning, about forty feet between them. Tempers had flared a couple of times over the course of the day, but by now everybody was winding down and waiting for someone else to call it a day.
Lily knew enough to know they were two different political groups but didn’t know enough to know what each supported. Blair explained that one wanted America to return to a time that never existed and the other side wanted America to enter a time that never will exist. Lily also didn’t know enough to know why both groups were so cordial and approachable. Seph, though, noticed that both groups were giving away coupons for Big Pizza in exchange for filling out surveys. Mitch instantly became interested when pizza was on the line, and the prospect of getting to offer his opinion in a survey only sweetened the deal.
Mitch approached one of the tables and asked for as many surveys as they’d give him free pizza coupons. They gave him one. Down the sidewalk, a girl waved at Emmit, though she might as well have sung a siren song. Emmit drifted; separating himself from the group waiting on Mitch and walked over to the rival table.
Wanna fill out this survey for me, asked the temptress. Emmit, fighting against his urges, shrugged away the suggestion. Two guys working with the girl approached Emmit and asked him to fill out the survey with a little bit more force. They said it’s easy. He wouldn’t get any e-mails if he didn’t want. There was no pressure but he would really be helping them out. Also, he’d get a discounted pizza. Come on, any pizza, half off. Or two for the price of one. Whatever sounds better. Eager to feel their appreciation, Emmit asked for the survey. He looked at the first question and immediately realized they were only meant for a genius or an idiot. He read the first question aloud, hoping to find some clarification.
-“Do I disagree with people who disagree with the statement, ‘I think President Heidi Burke has not made America not unsafe.’” What?
Meanwhile Mitch was filing out his survey with Blair, Seph and Lily behind him. Could like a billionaire give a candidate a million dollars, asked Mitch. No, he couldn’t, there’s a limit. What if it was all in gift cards? Just fill out the survey, Seph deadpanned. As Mitch gave up trying to answer the questions and started doodling answers instead of writing, Seph complained that even getting a pizza nowadays was political. Blair didn’t see a problem with it, though. Everybody was happy. But Seph wasn’t convinced. It was all a façade. These people couldn’t agree if it was Wednesday.
-But it’s not, said Mitch.
-It doesn’t matter.
-It’s Thursday.
-Mitch. I was making a point.
-That it’s Wednesday?
-Forget it. They can’t agree if it’s Thursday.
-Neither can we, sneered Blair.
One of the activists piped up from the other side of the table, asking Seph what the problem was. This was the breaking point for Seph, who lambasted all the activists for radicalizing their opinions with like-minded individuals so that they could always feel victimized and thus unrightfully noble in their insecure and unappreciated arrogance. Or at least that was the mini-tirade Seph wanted to scream. Instead he just walked into the pizzeria.
Across the entrance, Emmit began to see the girl who brought him over to the table as an opportunity for something different. Somebody new. He struggled to think of something to say until he finally asked if her political side was trying to legalize gambling.
-It doesn’t seem likely.
-You mean the odds are bad?
-Well I wouldn’t bet on it.
-That’s all I ever need to know.
He smiled, then watched one of her male teammates take her hand in his to get her attention. Emmit could see the guy squeeze her hand gently when he talked. Emmit looked at the survey. He had another two questions left but decided he had enough. The guy holding the girl’s hand said it was time for the group to call it a day. Emmit left the table without being noticed.
Lily tried to remember a joke she heard comparing politicians to diapers. Standing next to Lily, Blair wondered if Seph was just stressed out about the upcoming election, as it was only 22 months away. Mitch, mostly just wanting more discount pizza, wished there were more political parties. America would be boring if everybody had to drive one of two cars. White Mercedes or black BMW? Sorry, one or the other. No grays and no Lexuses. Or is Lexi? Mitch asked. Lily didn’t know either, but she did remember the punch line: They both need to be changed often and for the same reason.
Mitch wrote down Seph’s email on the survey, took the coupon and joined Blair and Emmit walking into the restaurant--all of them just moments behind Seph. Lily lagged behind, volunteering to tie up Bogart to a small tree nearby. Is this what are lives are, wondered Lily to no one. Do normal people not have adventures? Are we normal? She then went inside the pizzeria.
The political surveyors from both tables were ready to fold up their tables until they saw the future walking towards them. A renewed sense of competitive excitement crowded the sidewalk. Also crowding the sidewalk: a group of pimple-faced, snot-nosed, middle school students.
Inside, Blair watched Mitch sit at the rectangular table next to Seph. Slightly peeved, but knowing she had no reason to be, Blair went to walk around the table but only made a step before Emmit sat across from Seph and pushed out the chair next to himself. Resigning to the fact that nobody had the slightest idea what she was thinking, Blair sat down next to Emmit and across from Mitch. Shortly after, Lily walked over and saw her four friends sitting at a four-seat table. Seph noticed the situation and pulled a small, two-person table over to Emmit and his end. Lily quietly thanked him and sat down at the table, with her friends but by herself.
Before long, Blair extracted from Seph that he had ordered the pizza already. Half-Hawaiian, half-sausage and pepperoni. Blair, more than anybody, was shocked at Seph’s audacity. So Seph took up the challenge of defending himself. Blair had said earlier that week that she’s never put pineapple on anything before but also liked trying new things. Emmit always wants the meat-lovers but Mitch doesn’t like hamburger except in hamburgers. And Lily is too polite to disagree with anybody, but Seph knew she liked a variety of pizza slices in one meal. Meanwhile, Seph himself, would have preferred a taco pizza but really didn’t care so long as they got the cheesy crust, and so he did. He figured it would’ve take the group ten minutes to figure this out committee style, not to mention everybody would feel like they compromised their ideal pizzas. Whereas here, they just have to agree the forthcoming pizza was acceptable. And it was.
Of everybody, Blair found Seph’s initiative least acceptable. But she stayed quiet, feeling that she had more reason to keep the peace than anybody else did. She didn’t want to show any friction between her and Seph when Mitch, Emmit and Lily were around. She especially didn’t want to show any friction that could appear one-sided and send her on another trip to what she used to call “Bitchville, USA.” With Blair holding her tongue, everybody else was able to once again tell the handful of stories of how they all met. These were the best stories the friends knew but the stories never translated into quality entertainment for strangers.
Sensing that everyone was still in good spirits, Seph got up and walked to the bathroom unaware that Blair considered stealing his seat so that she could at least be next to Lily. Likewise, Mitch considered stealing Seph’s seat for the same reason. But Mitch did more than consider it and he slid to his right, effectively taking Seph’s old seat, next to Lily.
-What are you doing, asked Emmit.
-What?
-Don’t seat jack like that.
-He didn’t call seat backs.
-We’re in grade school again?
-Is Seph going to be angry, asked Lily.
-If Seph knows how to order five different pizzas in one, I think he knows where he wants to sit, said Blair.
-What if I take Mitch’s old seat?
-What does that solve, Lily?
-Well, I don’t know. We could talk or something.
-No way, said Emmit. If Seph is knocked out of this table—
-I’m knocked out of this table now.
-You can move, Lily. I’ll move to your seat.
-Okay, I guess.
-Wait, Blair. Don’t move, said Emmit.
-Why?
-Just…because…it’s not that big of a deal.
-Fine.
-Fine.
-Fine.
Mitch moved back to his old seat, across from Blair and separated by empty space from Lily.
In the unusually large restroom, Seph was also in the middle of a mess. He gingerly stepped into a puddle beneath the urinals. Seph had considered avoiding the puddle altogether and just arch his piss a good two feet from the urinal. The fear that the manager could walk in, see the long-distance peeing and ban Seph from the place for life convinced him to just risk standing in the puddle. He prayed to whatever god would listen that the soles of his shoes would be thicker than the depth of the puddle. They were.
While enjoying his duel-relief, Seph noticed the wall in front of him; or more specifically, a penciled-in message above the urinal.
Seph read the curious inscription as if it were on the back of a cereal box: You suck.
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