Mongo Mon
Walking down F_____ Ave. approaching the restaurant one day, I see ambling towards me in a relaxed Caribbean gait someone I recognize.
Hey hey, Mango Man, how you doin' today!
The guy is nonplussed for just a second, then makes the connection, smiles, and responds in kind.
You coming by today for some more mangoes?!
"Olready got dem, mon!" He shows me the two mangoes he's carrying in one giant hand.
Ok, Mango Man, you take it easy!
"Olright, mon, see you latah!"
The Rasta dude I call Mango Man comes into the restaurant every day or so and buys two mangoes from Theo. He pays $2 each. Theo buys them for about $1 - $1.50 each. I don't know what Mango Man did before Theo opened the joint. Went sadly mango-less, I suppose.
One day when I'm standing behind the counter, Mango Man saunters in and asks if we have mangoes today.
Sure do, Mango Man! Right there in the basket! I point.
In the basket, on one of the tiny tables at which, if you really wanted, you could eat your yummy Thai food, three mangoes sit.
Mango Man looks at them, scowls, shakes his head. "No, mon, I don't want dese mongoes, mon. Dese no good. Don't you have any others?"
What's wrong with 'em?
"Dese are," he struggles for a word, "dese are pahst, mon. Dese mongoes are pahst! I don't eat dem when dey pahst, mon. Dey got to be fresh."
Pahst? Post?
Oh. Past. Old. Overripe.
Hey, Theo, are these mangoes ok?
"Sure, they good mangoes!"
"No, mon, de skeen is not smooth! De mongo has to have de smooth skeen! I don't eat dem when dey pahst."
No, Mango Man, they're ok, actually, they're not past. We use 'em like that for the mango and sticky rice dessert. They're still good. Being a little riper makes them sweeter.
I hoped it sounded as if I knew what I was talking about, even though I didn't. All I knew was that, in the past I'd seen these really wrinkly-looking mangoes in the basket (that I myself thought were past), and watched as Theo would carefully choose one and hold it like a, well, like a new relationship you're trying to nurture, skin it, cut and slice, and bed atop some sticky rice for a hungry patron. Still sweet and yummy.
Mango Man was not to be persuaded.
"Dese are pahst mon! I don't eat dem when dey pahst. Dey got to have de smooth skeen!"
Mango Man, these are a different variety of mango. They're not past. It's ok if the skin is a little wrinkled. [I tried a different tack.]
He looked at me quizzically. "No, mon, dose are de mongo ve. Mongo ve. Dat's de other type of mongo. But dey got to have de smooth skeen. Dese are pahst, mon."
Well, I tried. Theo came over and tried, too. "What is the problem?"
"Dey pahst, mon."
I translated.
Mango Man says that the mangoes are [now I'm struggling for the word] uh, past? past their prime? too ripe? overripe?
"No, no, these are good! Very good, very sweet!" Theo didn't seem to understand.
"No, mon, de skeen got to be smooth. Dese is pahst mon. I don't eat dem when dey pahst. I come back when you got de fresh, wit de smooth skeen." He left.
Ok, Mango Man, see you when we've got de smooth skeen!
Hey hey, Mango Man, how you doin' today!
The guy is nonplussed for just a second, then makes the connection, smiles, and responds in kind.
You coming by today for some more mangoes?!
"Olready got dem, mon!" He shows me the two mangoes he's carrying in one giant hand.
Ok, Mango Man, you take it easy!
"Olright, mon, see you latah!"
The Rasta dude I call Mango Man comes into the restaurant every day or so and buys two mangoes from Theo. He pays $2 each. Theo buys them for about $1 - $1.50 each. I don't know what Mango Man did before Theo opened the joint. Went sadly mango-less, I suppose.
One day when I'm standing behind the counter, Mango Man saunters in and asks if we have mangoes today.
Sure do, Mango Man! Right there in the basket! I point.
In the basket, on one of the tiny tables at which, if you really wanted, you could eat your yummy Thai food, three mangoes sit.
Mango Man looks at them, scowls, shakes his head. "No, mon, I don't want dese mongoes, mon. Dese no good. Don't you have any others?"
What's wrong with 'em?
"Dese are," he struggles for a word, "dese are pahst, mon. Dese mongoes are pahst! I don't eat dem when dey pahst, mon. Dey got to be fresh."
Pahst? Post?
Oh. Past. Old. Overripe.
Hey, Theo, are these mangoes ok?
"Sure, they good mangoes!"
"No, mon, de skeen is not smooth! De mongo has to have de smooth skeen! I don't eat dem when dey pahst."
No, Mango Man, they're ok, actually, they're not past. We use 'em like that for the mango and sticky rice dessert. They're still good. Being a little riper makes them sweeter.
I hoped it sounded as if I knew what I was talking about, even though I didn't. All I knew was that, in the past I'd seen these really wrinkly-looking mangoes in the basket (that I myself thought were past), and watched as Theo would carefully choose one and hold it like a, well, like a new relationship you're trying to nurture, skin it, cut and slice, and bed atop some sticky rice for a hungry patron. Still sweet and yummy.
Mango Man was not to be persuaded.
"Dese are pahst mon! I don't eat dem when dey pahst. Dey got to have de smooth skeen!"
Mango Man, these are a different variety of mango. They're not past. It's ok if the skin is a little wrinkled. [I tried a different tack.]
He looked at me quizzically. "No, mon, dose are de mongo ve. Mongo ve. Dat's de other type of mongo. But dey got to have de smooth skeen. Dese are pahst, mon."
Well, I tried. Theo came over and tried, too. "What is the problem?"
"Dey pahst, mon."
I translated.
Mango Man says that the mangoes are [now I'm struggling for the word] uh, past? past their prime? too ripe? overripe?
"No, no, these are good! Very good, very sweet!" Theo didn't seem to understand.
"No, mon, de skeen got to be smooth. Dese is pahst mon. I don't eat dem when dey pahst. I come back when you got de fresh, wit de smooth skeen." He left.
Ok, Mango Man, see you when we've got de smooth skeen!
posted by Takeout Lawyer at 10:38 AM
1 Comments:
Hey!
I thought I was the Mango Man!
And he's right---wrinkly skinkly skin is a sure sign of mango pastage.
Trust the Mango Men, my dear TL, and you'll keep on the sunny side of life.
Your,
Earbrass
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