If you know Ben, you know that he carries a sort of confidence that sees him through almost anything. Our cooking this week was nothing more than Ben holding our branding iron over a pile of pork steak while Phil did all the heavy lifting, but “it counts,” as Ben would say.
How does confidence look when you are on the road with Ben? Well, let’s say you are traveling back from Harrisonburg, Virginia, where you have had a lovely time with family. You stop at the Chipotle in Shamokin Dam (or maybe it’s Hummel’s Wharf – I’ve never known the difference) and you ask for the millionth time if Ben needs to go to the bathroom. You are shocked that he takes you up on the offer, adding, “I gotta go bad.”
I will pause here to tell you that the bathroom code that every one of us knows to be “number one” and “number two” is not a metric to which Ben adheres. He sees greater numbers as intensifiers, not as modalities.
Back to our story. Ben and Phil wait outside the bathroom door that opens onto the “dining” room at Chipotle. They wait for some time, which should give one pause about what awaits them when the chamber of secrets is finally opened. At last, they take their turn. And how. Meanwhile, you’ve ordered for them and have finished your own meal when they finally emerge from the bathroom, triumphant. Phil gives you a look from across the room that says, “I’ve seen some stuff.” Ben comes out, tucking in his shirt before raising his arms in triumph proclaiming, “Number 47. Nailed it.” You pretend you don’t know either of them.
Ben’s confidence, whether he is wielding a branding iron, chopping up a head of romaine lettuce with abandon, or exiting a restaurant bathroom, is enviable. May we all nail the elusive number 47.