There once was a jovial, bearded, burly man named Everett – with a hearty appetite for delicious food and boisterous entertainment as much as lively conversation. Like most days, after hours of toil and errands of various kinds, he eagerly goes to his favorite local eatery – a cozy tavern with flavorful dishes, and the warm company of both patrons and staff alike.
On one particular day, however – as he made his way to his favorite seat in the restaurant, his usual comfort was interrupted by the presence of a somber, slender, stylish gentleman named Gage. With a disapproving glance, Gage continued to pick at his food like a despondent, spoiled child in a household kitchen.
In contrast to the bitter mood of Gage – with his paltry, anemic dish, the jovial Everett settled into his corner of the tavern with an especially full array of dishes. Everything from savory, tender meats to earthy grains and vegetables were set before him.
The joy of Everett was met with the approving faces of the tavern crew, but not without the protestations of somber Gage drawing attention in the center of the establishment.
With a shrill tone, Gage shouts, “This soup is far too heavy, and far too spiced.” Looking over at the Everett for a moment, and back at the staff, he says, “Unlike some of your guests, I don’t simply eat everything you have to offer. I have a far more delicate palette.”
From the tavern kitchen emerges the head chef – a soft gentleman named Norman with an inviting face, despite his understandable annoyance. He approaches Gage and says, “What would you like instead, good sir?” he continues, saying, “As you’ve suggested, we have quite the menu, and we are here to please our customers.”
“Perhaps a bit too eager” Gage says with a sneer at mirthful Everett at the end of the tavern. “I am looking for something more refined – not an assault of portions.”
The burly gourmand Everett strokes his beard between bites, and with a smirk, winks at the chef, who nods gently, before saying, “I think I have just the thing. And don’t worry, it’ll be on the house today.”
As the somber Gage waits for his dish, he folds his arms over his chest and tries to ignore the mirthful man in his seat. The chef comes back out from the kitchen, and makes his way to Everett, who says, “The food was great today, as usual. I’m ready for my favorite dessert, chef.”
“It is my pleasure to serve you” Norman says. “It will be out for you soon my friend.”
Moments later, two petite waitresses make their way to the Everett and Gage respectively – with a decadent dessert being placed in front of eager Everett before Gage’s dish is set in front of him.
For the sour faced Gage, on a small plate, was a delicate portion of meat – surrounded by an equally modest portion of vegetables, with a refined, artistic presentation to suit the sensibilities of the selective patron being served.
Without a word, or even as much of an expression, Gage carefully eats the dish set before him, and to his surprise, it is a perfect dish for him to eat. He finishes it off with the same delicate pace – actually savoring the dish in a manner not unlike Everett across from him. He quickly finishes it off, and sits back in his chair.
Everett, unlike Gage, has not only been enjoying his second helping, but is blissfully full – a situation made all too apparent by the careful rubbing of his midsection and a contented sigh heard throughout the tavern.
As Everett pays for his ample meal and thanks the tavern crew for their hard work, he passes by Gage and hears the unmistakable rumble of hunger emanating from his abdomen. With a hearty chuckle, he says, “Just because the rest of us enjoy our portions, doesn’t mean we don’t seek out well made meals. The dish you were served was merely just a children’s portion of the first course I ate today. I suppose even bratty children eat for free.”
With more laughter, and a few muffled chuckles from patrons in the restaurant, the jovial boarish man pats his stomach and slowly saunters outside as Gage grumbles at the table.
The somber gentleman watches the other patrons leave, and when he’s the final guest in the tavern, Gage lowers his head and is about to exit the restaurant before the chef approaches him, saying, “Here. He’s something for your journey home. I hope you come back again soon.”
The chef gives him a small cake box and says, “Sweetness is far better than bitterness, don’t you think?”