It's Called Sarcasm [1] ⌲ Twombly

17 | just weird enough

"Listen, guys," Sal, the owner of the pizza shop, said as we attempted to sell our product for the second time, this time with the help of Billy and Nick. "We've always done things the same way. Yellow pages, flyers, San Jose Mercury News."

"Now, look," Billy began. "We're all creatures of habit, Sal, am I right? I mean, we all like what we know. There's no question about it. But you know what the scariest thing in life is? The thing in life that frightens us the most? Change."

"Exactly." Nick agreed with a nod. "And by the way, I think most people are guilty in getting set in their ways. I know I need change to come along and give me a little kick in the ass to get me moving."

"Alright, listen guys, I know where you're going." Sal sighed. "But I'm not going to change anything. Like I already told your friends, we're getting by okay."

"Sal, with all due respect, if you fight for your limitations, you get to keep them. Do you hear yourself? You're getting by okay." Billy said. "'Okay'? I mean, geez! 'Okay' isn't good. I mean, 'okay' isn't great."

"Look," Nick chimed in. "I don't want to get sideways with you. You're as big as a barn. You look like you were carved out of a damn mountain for God sakes! But you're an artist, okay? This is great pizza! Picasso with pepperoni!"

I smiled, gripping Stuart's hand tighter as I felt the first spark of hope I'd felt this entire summer swell in my chest. Maybe we really did need Billy and Nick on our side. Maybe they could turn this around for us.

"And hey," Billy's voice cut back into my thoughts. "Stop it. Do not even get me started on the sauce. I mean, is there nutmeg in there? There's something. But look, I respect the fact that you don't want to divulge, but if I'm right, don't say anything."

Sal exchanged a look with his son, and Billy smacked his hand on the counter.

"Exactly! There's your answer!" Billy exclaimed, making Sal laugh. Stuart and I exchanged a smile.

"Sal, c'mon! All I'm saying is, why should Papa John's make all the dough, when Papa Sal's got the better sauce?"

"You know what?" Sal said. "Now you're starting to sound like him." He said, jutting a finger in the direction of his son. "Frankie wants to open up a Sal's in Los Gatos."

"The bigger chains are killing us." Frankie said. "We're barely staying afloat."

"When you franchise, you lose quality." Sal said. "You lose the taste that people trust. You want to know why my sauce is better? I'll tell you why. I go down to the farmer's market everyday, I buy the tomatoes myself. I walk down the street, I get the basil, the oregano. Look, guys, I know these people. I'm part of the fabric of this neighborhood. That's good enough for me."

Billy opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.

"That's better than good enough, Sal." I say, stepping forward in between Billy and Nick. "Listen, I know exactly what you're talking about. When I was a little girl, my mom owned a bakery. Bet you can't guess the name." I said, grinning when Sal raised his eyebrows. "The Adams' Family Bakery." I chuckle. "It always made everyone laugh."