Finding Perfection

When I’m working on a problem, I never think about beauty. I think only how to solve the problem. But when I have finished, if the solution is not beautiful, I know it is wrong.
– R. Buckminster FullerWatch Consumed (2015) Full Movie Online Streaming Online and Download

In any search for greatness, from the grandest mountain to the finest grain of sand, patience and persistence rule. I was getting thinner about both.

The bar featured a row of proud but dusty bottles on the right hand wall coddling a single patron hunched over his drink this Tuesday afternoon. Missing in this scene was the smoky stench of tobacco. Spilling into the room of dark wood and old carpet was a thick stream of sunshine from an expanse of glass at the back displaying the waterfront deck. From the light a tall brunette approached me with a smile.

“Hi, I’m Patrick” I offered with my hand.

“Of course. We spoke on the phone.” she nodded. “I’m Kelly.”

“You can help me?” I asked, arching an eyebrow to accent the seriousness.

“I’m sure. Come this way.” She turned with a swish of her hips and started for the deck, glancing over her shoulder. “I assume you want to be outside on such a wonderful day?”

“That will be fine.”

She knew. I could tell. Her confidence was impressive. But would it measure up? Could this be what I’ve searched for so very long, or just another one of life’s many disappointments? Whatever was to happen I was ready. I was prepared for the best, or the worst. My journey had tempered me with patience, but my determination carried me forward. My heart reminded me it was beating hard. This could be it. Or not. I would soon know.

I took a seat behind a table with a fine view of the bay and ordered water. I didn’t want my senses to be dulled for this.

“Water? Is that all?” she teased.

“Don’t be coy.” was my reply. “You know why I’m here.”

I turned my attention to the boats gracing the water as time oozed out like a slowly dripping faucet. My thoughts drifted to younger days and other quests. I was slightly startled, jerked back from my mind’s wandering when Kelly returned with a glass in one hand and a plate in the other.

“Your fish sandwich, sir” she announced as the plate settled in front of me with the water glass beside it. “Will there be anything else?”

I shook my head, my gaze directed only at the sandwich. Not just any fish sandwich. The “Key Largo” fish sandwich, sporting the name of it’s geographical origin. I breathed in deeply and noticed my mouth getting moist. I barely saw the pile of fries also on the plate.

I peeled the top of the bun to reveal a thick slab of cheddar cheese completely covering the grilled onions setting on top of a piece of mahi-mahi, also grilled. Next to the sandwich was a strip of lettuce, slice of tomato, and a small container of mayo. I applied the mayo to the top bun and set it back on the stack of fish, onions and cheese with a strip of the lettuce between them. The tomato could wait.

With a smooth motion I shoveled the sandwich up to my mouth and took a large bite. I was surprised by the way the cheese and onions married to the fish, erasing the skepticism I held about their presence only moments before. I took another bite. The fish was fresh and grilled perfectly. The bun was light and also fresh, wonderful in it’s supporting role. The juices made me reach for my napkin.

It doesn’t get any better. This was it. This was the fish sandwich. Just wait until I get back home. Wait until they all hear.