we doing today?â Jeremy says, trying not to look profoundly disturbed by Stevieâs ravenous eating. âYou applied here and Iâd like to ask you a few questions?â
Stevie tries speaking, voice blocked by mounds of digested breadstick masticated in violent chomps. He holds out a âWait a minuteâ right index finger, moves a stack of plates from what will be Jeremy Morelandâs side of the booth, motions with âHave a seatâ outstretched arms, tries wiping the grease off Jeremyâs side of the table with a couple already soiled and crumpled brown napkins and succeeds in spreading the grease into circular smudges, swallows the breadstick and starts in with this torrent in the cadence, timbre and volume of a Florida used car salesman yelling about bargains in late night TV commercials, âHey man, yeah, sit down and talk to me you probably know who I am âcuz Iâm in here almost every day so youâre probably like âYâall, whoâs that whoâs always in here tearinâ up the lunch buffet?â Well I figured Iâm here enough already so might as well apply here since I obviously like the food so much anyway this buffetâs the best in town so I saw that sign outside and figured why not?â
Jeremy slides into the booth, looks over the plates stacked five-six high, littered with pizza crusts and the hard ends of marinara tipped bread sticks, overturned dipping sauces (Awesome Valley Ranch, Totally Dudical Honey Mustard, Mama Leonaâs Fatten You Uppa Sour Cream and Chives, Peter Ceteraâs Moderate Salsa, Kansas City Dude Squad Mesquite Barbeque Sauce, Paisan Geoffâs Zesty Garlic Butter), stray oregano and red pepper flakes scattered everywhere. âSo. Stevie. Thatâs your name?â
âYeah buddy!â Stevie says, swallowing the last of the pizza while finishing the breadstick in his other hand. Jeremy Moreland hears the hick accent, sees the gold brah chain around Stevieâs neck and the buzzed black hair and laughs the kind of superior under-the-breath chuckle that comes naturally from the mouths of high school seniors who have been told that they were âgiftedâ their whole lives. Stevie hears the laugh. âThat funny, home slice?â
Jeremy says nothing, pretends to scan the yellow-papered, grease-smudged application for the first time. âAnd . . . do you have a last name, Stevie?â
âYeah I gotta last name and a whole lotta other information I could give you, butI ainât gonna share that with you for reasons you know I know and I know you know, so Iâm just going to keep that to myself for the time being.â
âYouâre saying you wonât give me your last name?â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm saying!â Stevie pounds the table, rattling the plates and the napkin dispenser. ââCause I heard this thing on the radio that the government takes that information and after that who knows what they do with it man! They get that, and theyâll know how to find me, and whenânot if, when âsociety collapses, theyâll round me up with the rest of you suckersââ
âWell,â Jeremy says, starting the scrawny-ass scoot out of the booth, âwe canât hire you without a last name, so if you donât feel comfortableââ
âItâs Walters,â Stevie interrupts, and Jeremy slides back across his side of the booth. âSteven âStevieâ Raymond Walters.â
âThank you.â Jeremy writes in the new information in the appropriate lines. Stevie reaches for his massive red plastic cup and straw-slurps a mouthful of sweet tea. âI can assure you no one here will alert the government of your whereabouts should civilization collapse on us.â
âYou say that now,â Stevie says, âbut man, donât get me started.â
âI hope not to,â Jeremy