Quandary | The Frank & Beans

But this Tuesday, the quandary arrived.

Back in his kitchen, he prepared the meal with the same solemnity as always. The cocktail wieners were too small, too slick. The vegetarian sauce was thin and lied about its maple heritage. He sat down. Fork poised. the frank & beans quandary

Arthur Figg was a man ruled by routine. Every Tuesday at 7:13 PM, he prepared his signature dish: two all-beef frankfurters, cross-hatched and griddled to a precise chestnut brown, served atop a quarter-cup of Boston baked beans. No bun. No mustard. Just frank, beans, fork. But this Tuesday, the quandary arrived

The quandary was solved. Next Tuesday, order would be restored. But for seven long days, Arthur Figg would live in the gray space between what a meal should be and what it actually was. And that, he supposed, was simply the taste of being human. The vegetarian sauce was thin and lied about

Arthur bought them both.