A man named John Paul Marcus. He usually takes his morning stroll down fifth street every morning. He chooses fifth street not because of the architecture, not necessarily because there are lots of beautiful women who are always hanging their clothes out to dry on the lines that stretch from building to building, and not at all because his best friend Christina-whom he really does love but has never found those words to captivate her heart and explode her world with the music of love-works on that street. He chooses fifth street because of all the food cart peddlers. There really is an array of choices on fifth street. Anywhere from Polynesian to Mexican and from Venezuelan to Chinese, and everything in between. John, however, in this array of elaborate choices really did not like the fancier choices. He did not like the mystical Chinese foods or the Indian foods that really tastes all the same anyway. He did not like the Italian food because it upset his stomach and the Iranian and Middle East food just did not make sense. John mostly just enjoyed the regular, Americanized hot dogs. They had so much meat, to make you strong and a good stability. The only problem is they had a lot of fat around them. Hot dogs always had a lot of excess, useless things that you thought you had to eat along with the hot dog but really you never needed in the first place. John loved hot dogs, though. He sang songs about hot dogs, he wrote about hot dogs, and he talked about hot dogs all the time. They really were his life.
One day, however, John realized that he gained a lot of weight (for the sake of him being embarrassed the number shall remain anonymous). John realized that he had just been stocking up fat and not really gaining any kind of significant growth anywhere that mattered. He had been eating hot dogs for so very long that hot dogs were all he knew. But one day, while he was meandering down fifth street he noticed a peddler he had never noticed before. His attention was grabbed by the sign that said "FOOD OF ZION". John had never heard of Zion before, but was quite intrigued.
The man working there was handsome. Every hair straight, and the perfect color for his complexion. His face looked grizzled but well shaven, that he had been through a lot but still had came out strong. His clothes were plain looking enough but they seemed to fit him well. Almost as if they were made for him specifically... but the normality of the style would seem odd to have tailored. So John inquired, "Do you guys have a menu?"
"We have the finest bread around. It will give you life and energy like you've never imagined"
John liked bread. That's what hot dogs came on.
"Do you like bread, son?"
John was astonished, "Well yes, I was just thinking I like bread."
"Well you'll love ours. The more you eat the better it tastes! Naturally, the more you will want it. And I guarantee there is not a more filling bread in the
"What do you mean the more I'll want? So you're saying you're going to sell me an addictive substance? No wonder nobody comes over here." Just as John said that, a beautiful lady that seemed to be barely held together came shuffling towards the booth. Her head bowed down, she put a hand on the booth and let out a sigh of relief. She slowly but steadily lifted her head, and as she did, her tired visage gave birth to a satisfied smile bringing with it more sighs of relief.
"I need some refreshment. I'm so tired and life is just so hard right now." With her plea, the peddler reached into his cart, pulled out what looked like a baguette, the kind you see in pictures. The kind you see in advertisements that you know your bread will never look that good. She walked away, eating and humming with her bread in one hand and her other hand in the air like she just scored a touchdown.
"That's what you're selling? I'll take two!" John exclaimed. "How much is it?"
"It's free. The only condition is that you give up your other vices. Those hot dogs, that have made you gain so much weight, leaving you sluggish and depressed, and made you repulsing in the sight of Christina. I'm the only food you can have. And I will know if you're partaking in something else, because one of us will leave a bad taste in your mouth. Neither will be truly satisfying.
John thought about this for a moment and decided it was all he needed. He was sick of hot dogs, thinking they were going to make him feel better when in reality he was just gaining fat he neither wanted nor needed. This excess bubble in his life was slowing him down.
"I'll do it. No more food. Just the bread." John said, acknowledging what he really needed. The peddler handed him a small piece of bread. John looked very confused at his piece of bread, but the man insisted,
"This is all you can handle right now. Just try it". And so John did. He took a small nibble and already he felt like a different person. He forgot what hot dogs tasted like and even the mentioning of the food kind of made him queezy. Like it was some far off distant memory he couldn't remember from amnesia. So his new routine began.
He woke up the next morning and walked quite speedily down to fifth street. He knew that when he got there the man would be waiting and he was. And John asked him for some refreshment. Every day this went on and on as John would come and get some bread. Each time the peddler giving him more. Until one day, John woke up late and forgot to take his stroll down fifth street. He thought nothing of it and made a mental note to remember to go tomorrow. But he never did. John went a couple days and just did not have the time to go, even though most of his day was really spent playing video games. He even stopped going to work.
One day, John heard a knock at his door. He peered through the peep hole and it was the peddler, holding a piece of bread. John became frantic and started trying to clean the apartment, never really getting it clean but just moving stuff around. He kept moving the mess around as the knocking went on and on, until it eventually got so quiet it stopped. He didn't really realize it had stopped until hours later. He woke up one morning and the electricity was out. No power to play video games and no job to go to anymore. He slept until he couldn't sleep anymore and then decided to go for a walk. A walk down to fifth street. He forgot how much he missed taking walks and so he returned to this routine of his. Until one day he passed the peddler's bread cart. He stopped by and asked the man how he was doing, what he thought of the weather and how about them Yankees?.
"What do you need today, my son?" the peddler asked.
"I don't need anything. I'm alright. Thank you, though." John replied, as he thought about his old job... his dirty apartment... how he missed Christina... and how he could not remember the last time when he ate he was truly satisfied.
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