Tell Me, Tall Man
I was in line at a fast-food restaurant with which you are familiar, standing behind a software engineer who, like all software engineers, had a touch of the –tisms. He was tall, of course, neatly muscled, and odd, all of which was already apparent but became clearer when he turned to me, as if surprised to find me standing behind, and said,
I redesigned my points app so that it randomly chooses a food item from the menu within my points price range.
You must like variety, I replied.
Not really.
The person in front of him, who was ordering from this well-known menu ploddingly, as if she had never heard of fast food, asked time-consuming questions to the minor in the uniform, some of which the minor, helpful but baffled by this line of inquiry, passed on to the tired manager who expedited both dine-in and drive-thru lines.
If not for variety, then why adapt the app?
Because you get what you get, the tall man explained.
He turned back around and, as if studying the selections somehow mattered to him despite the app, resumed his prior gaping, over the head of the astonishing newbie, at the menu, which suddenly appeared, mounted over a Bunn and two soft-serve machines, as if it might fall from the wall and crush the harried manager and the uniformed minor.
You are entitled to what you ask for, I told the tall man, who turned at the waist and looked down at me another time.
You get what you get.
Because of the app, which you made!
Correct.
Therefore, you like variety.
I would not say that.
Then you like surprises.
No big surprises on this menu, he said.
Then you do this, why? Because you ascribe to the philosophy in the Rolling Stones song?
I would not say I am dissatisfied.
I mean the other song, the one with the children’s choir.
John Lennon’s X-mas song?
No, I mean…
You do not seem to comprehend that you get what you get.
Because you have asked for it, I insisted.
He turned back around to check the progress of the menu, which was irrelevant to him.
By redesigning the app to deliver unnecessary variety, I added, you are essentially getting what you want.
Previously, the tall man had turned at the waist to look down at me over his left shoulder. Now, as if alternating for sake of variety, he turned to look over his right.
The app randomizes my order.
There has never been a question about that, I replied. The question is why you have randomized the app.
Because I can, the tall man said. And because you get what you get.
####
At this point you interrupt me and ask why I started this story with the words “of course.”
What? I ask.
In your exposition, you remind me, you said “He is tall, of course.” Why “tall”?
“Was,” I correct you. I said “He was tall.”
Matt Wanat
Professor of English at Ohio University Lancaster, Matt Wanat is co-editor of Breaking Down Breaking Bad and The Films of Clint Eastwood. Wanat has published critical essays, encyclopedia articles, reviews, and book chapters on various authors and filmmakers. Wanat’s fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction publications are available or forthcoming in The Wayfarer, Coffin Bell, The Wax Paper, and Pennsylvania English. Wanat resides in rural southeastern Ohio.
