1
In a pedicure chair, listening to an Asian-inspired Muzak
version of “We’ve Only Just Begun” by The Carpenters. I close my eyes and a scene unfolds in my mind. I’m sitting in a mostly empty restaurant in a hotel somewhere in
Shanghai. As I pick at my plate of Moo Goo Gai Pan, a waiter pushes
a carpet sweeper with a squeaky wheel past my table.
2
At the H-E-B in Mueller Park, I wheel my cart around a
corner and come face to face with a little kid who reminds me of Gary Coleman
in the height of his “Different Strokes” adorableness. He immediately strikes up a conversation with me, as if we’ve been friends for years.
“They don’t have nothing else to try,” he says, hand on hip. “There’s no
more gluten-free fries or frozen yogurt samples. I checked both tables.”
“Aw man,” I say. “I haven’t even tried
any samples yet.”
“They do have some of that sushi stuff, but…” he makes a
face like he smells something rotten.
“Yah, I hear ya,” I say as his mother rolls up with her cart. She eyes me and then her son.
Without another word or glance my way, Little Gary Coleman
falls in line with his mama and the two disappear down the cereal aisle. The thought
crosses my mind that he’ll probably grow up to be somebody important someday.
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