Mr. B was a bisque man. It was not an orientation that he chose; rather he was born with it. Specifically he was a bisque-seaweed-ramen man, but to simplify his already complicated life, he identified as a bisque man.
Being a bisque man was not without its challenges. He knew that he was in the minority. Sometimes, in an effort to find like-minded people, he would run the following ad in the local paper:
"Bisque man seeks same for walks on the beach and general camaraderie. Serious responses only."
However, since no one took the ad seriously, there were no responses. Desperate to get results, he changed the ad to the following:
"International bisque man of mystery seeks real life characters belonging to his real life suspense story."
Unfortunately this ad just confused people and so not surprisingly no one responded to it.
Feeling a bit hopeless, Mr. B would drive down the same road every day, past the same auto body shop that had the same sign posted outside:
"Help Wanted. Body Man"
One day, to his complete surprise, there was a second sign standing next to the first that read:
"Help Wanted. Bisque Man"
Realizing that the universe was presenting him with his big break, he pulled into the shop and inquired about the position.
A friendly auto mechanic began explaining the job in detail. "Follow me" he said and walked through a large, dark room full of body men busy at work. There was dirt and dust everywhere, big piles of greasy and grimy metal, and so much noise that it was difficult to think.
At the far end of the shop was a door, and when the two men walked through they found themselves in a completely different environment. It was a smaller, well lit room with white walls and a table covered with matching white tablecloth.
"This is where we test the bisque" the mechanic said. "Do you think you can handle it?"
"Sure" said Mr. B. "I am a bisque man."
"Then come in tomorrow at nine" said the friendly mechanic.
And that was the beginning of Mr. B's career as a Bisque Man. Every morning he would walk through the busy body shop to the room in the back with the white walls and white table cloth. On a nearby counter, four or five large containers of bisque from local restaurants were kept warm. An assistant would fill up bowls with each type of bisque and place them on the table. Mr. B would then proceed to taste each bisque, taking notes on their flavor, texture, color etc. When he was ready, he would fill out long forms addressing every possible detail of the bisque. When the forms were complete, he would sign them in the presence of a special notary, a Bisque Notary.
In this way, Mr. B was able to live out his destiny as a bisque man.
- Copyright 2016 by P.T. Gachot
Being a bisque man was not without its challenges. He knew that he was in the minority. Sometimes, in an effort to find like-minded people, he would run the following ad in the local paper:
"Bisque man seeks same for walks on the beach and general camaraderie. Serious responses only."
However, since no one took the ad seriously, there were no responses. Desperate to get results, he changed the ad to the following:
"International bisque man of mystery seeks real life characters belonging to his real life suspense story."
Unfortunately this ad just confused people and so not surprisingly no one responded to it.
Feeling a bit hopeless, Mr. B would drive down the same road every day, past the same auto body shop that had the same sign posted outside:
"Help Wanted. Body Man"
One day, to his complete surprise, there was a second sign standing next to the first that read:
"Help Wanted. Bisque Man"
Realizing that the universe was presenting him with his big break, he pulled into the shop and inquired about the position.
A friendly auto mechanic began explaining the job in detail. "Follow me" he said and walked through a large, dark room full of body men busy at work. There was dirt and dust everywhere, big piles of greasy and grimy metal, and so much noise that it was difficult to think.
At the far end of the shop was a door, and when the two men walked through they found themselves in a completely different environment. It was a smaller, well lit room with white walls and a table covered with matching white tablecloth.
"This is where we test the bisque" the mechanic said. "Do you think you can handle it?"
"Sure" said Mr. B. "I am a bisque man."
"Then come in tomorrow at nine" said the friendly mechanic.
And that was the beginning of Mr. B's career as a Bisque Man. Every morning he would walk through the busy body shop to the room in the back with the white walls and white table cloth. On a nearby counter, four or five large containers of bisque from local restaurants were kept warm. An assistant would fill up bowls with each type of bisque and place them on the table. Mr. B would then proceed to taste each bisque, taking notes on their flavor, texture, color etc. When he was ready, he would fill out long forms addressing every possible detail of the bisque. When the forms were complete, he would sign them in the presence of a special notary, a Bisque Notary.
In this way, Mr. B was able to live out his destiny as a bisque man.
- Copyright 2016 by P.T. Gachot
