Chapter 2 - 2-1 - a change in the natural order, part 1

"Eyy Benny boy, ova heah!" Ben heard a gravelly voice over the music and roar of the crowded restaurant. He looked around trying to make his friend Jim out over the crowd. He had just biked up the hill to the All American, a 24 hour diner atop the largest hill on campus. The place sold anything, as long as it was greasy and deep fried. The running joke among the campus was that the administration only put it on top of the hill to try and get the fatties some minuscule amount of exercise, but they mostly just took the bus. Ben typically shied away from places like these, but after his bike ride he was starving and just wanted to stuff his face after such a demoralizing test.

Ben looked around for his friend, and let out a chuckle as he saw his buddy. He was hunched over a plate of nachos as big as his head, no wonder he had trouble spotting him. Sliding into the vinyl booth with a plop a waitress came to take his order before Ben had a chance to look up. Ben almost asked her to come back later, but after another painful growl from his belly he took one look at the massive crowd and thought better. He addressed his friend loudly over the noise of the diner. "Jim-o what do you recommend?" Ben crowed. The impatient waitress audibly scoffed and rolled her eyes, "He would know, he's here enough." She raised a pierced eyebrow at his friends display of gluttony. Ben had to admit it didn't look good. Jim was hunched over his feast, hardly stopping to breath as he shoved food into his chubby red lips. His Red Sox jersey, while originally white had taken on a tye-dye appearance, showing off all the meals he had eaten in it. Yellows of mustard, reds from ketchup, and a wash of other stains made the garment appear closer to a modern art project than a serviceable shirt. The jersey was loose fitting, but still didn't do much to hide Jim's corpulent gut.

Jim had to finish his mouthful before continuing. "Oh yea get ya bahbs in, but if youah asking me for my recommendation, I'm not goin easy on ya." Jim gave Ben a condiment stained smile, to which Ben gave a sheepish grin. Ben sometimes had trouble making out what his friend said over a combination of food in his mouth and his thick Boston accent. He was unsure why Jim had decided to go to college way out in Colorado, but Ben had grown to appreciate his company over the years. Jim publicly and loudly voiced his hatred the Denver Broncos, the state, and it's people, but the two of them had been good friends since freshman year. "Do your worst!", Ben said confidently, "I'm starving, didn't have breakfast." Ben said the last part with a twinge of guilt, he tended to lie when he didn't need to. In this case though he was just preparing to protect his bruised ego. Jim whispered something to the waitress, and while Ben didn't know what was said, the shocked look on the girl's face let him know he should loosen his belt.

After the waitress left Jim took a break from his feast to clear his mouth. "So ahh, how did test numero uno go my man?" Jim looked up with an apprehensive look. Ben immediately knew why. The two had been roommates for years, and Jim had been there to witness the aftermath of more than a few failed exams. Ben looked down sheepishly before uttering a single sentence. "I should have had breakfast." Jim shook his head and let out a long whistle, his long greasy blonde locks shaking under his backwards Patriots cap. "Damn dude that bad? I quizzed you supah hard and everything..." The two sat in silence for awhile before Ben responded. "I just... froze, you know? Like a deer in the freakin headlights." Jim snorted knowingly, "Just like ol' bug eyed Reche Caldwell in 06' man, I totally feel you."

Ben gave his friend a hard stare. While he knew Jim meant well, Ben was not into sports at all, let alone New England sports. That analogy was just Jim's way of trying to help him feel better but Ben knew not who Reche Caldwell was, nor what happened in "'06" for it to earn the comparison. Ben changed the subject irritably. The two chatted about this and that, though being so early in the semester not a whole lot had gone on. They continued their talk until Jim abruptly broke out in his obnoxious bostonian laugh. Ben turned to take in the largest entre on the menu.

"Good luck buddy!" Jim said through a smile and a mouthful of nacho, leaving Ben's jaw on the floor in the process. In front of him was the largest burger he had ever seen, like it had been enlarged in photoshop. "Two 3-quartah poundahs stacked with 4 slices of the All American's signature cheese" Jim proudly announced. "Topped with a fried egg. It is breakfast after all." And that wasn't all, Ben noticed. Home fries and a hearty portion of baked beans accompanied his sandwich, with his friend constantly sniggering at Ben's predicament.

See normally Ben could have eaten what he wanted and left, but the All-American had a tradition. If someone didn't finish their meal a bell would be wrung, whipping the crowd into a frenzy of boos. It also counted as a strike, and if you got too many on your student card the chef would start making baby sized portions for you, adding to the humiliation.

"Well it's a good thing I'm hungry..." Ben said in a daze, his impish friend egging him on. He went to grab his drink when he realized he didn't have one. "Oh here man, I didn't even start this." Jim said as he moved his glass of cola toward him. Ben hesitated, still put off by accepting an open beverage. His hunger and impatience won out though, as he took a quick gulp before starting his culinary journey.