Excerpt

At the local Japanese spot, it was all you can stomach. Complements of the well documented proprietors. I ordered the Statue of Liberty roll but was given the American Dream, It was all good. She acquired a taste for the Mexicana roll because of the proximity. Behind the facade of three Japanese men at the refrigerated fish case were our neighbors in the migrant camp, back of house ubermenchians. Understudied Marxists from Central America. We’ve briefly discussed Guevara before, not in detailed complexity. On the tv was airing the first episode of Dancing with the Supplicants followed by Couples Mistaken for Siblings. Next to the maneki-neko was an altar to Our lady of Guadalupe. During a lull, I explained to my date how I felt about Moctezuma confusing Quetzalcoatl for Hernan Cortes, in a nutshell I’m skeptical. It was not long before she lost interest and asked if I had zote at home and what mural I was working on. “Aren’t you glad you found Christ?” The latest installment in a lineage of Irish immigrants, I marveled how she asked with thick, overstated innocence. I failed to return the sentiment. I didn’t withhold the patronization that crept in my retort, “He came to me.” i looked up and it was Travis Kelsey in three consecutive commercials, as I thought to myself how mysterious does God work His ways. Although we ate for free the bill fell on me with a multi-generational repayment plan. Maybe a Maezawa can recognize my brilliance while I’m still alive.