Fried Rice for my Soul

I met The Devil once. He’s nothing like you imagined unless you imagined a chubby middle-aged insurance adjuster from Toledo, Ohio. Which is to say nothing about chubby middle-aged insurance adjusters from Toledo, Ohio.

I know a chubby middle-aged insurance adjuster and I’m friends with a guy from Toledo, Ohio.

They’re both pretty cool.

In fact the Devil is pretty cool too. We met in a Chipotle. He ordered his burrito with brown rice, black beans, and sofritas.

Anybody who knows me will tell you I’m not a very chatty person, so it beats me how we came to have a conversation. His Devil magic is the obvious answer, but absent any evidence that’s just me stereotyping.

Anyhow, we got to talking over our burritos and I asked him what he did for a living and he said, “Nobody ever believes me.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Cause it’s kinda hard to believe,” he said.

“Okay,” I responded, not really caring to dig. My burrito had guacamole in it. I love guacamole. I’m eating my burrito and thinking God bless the people who discovered avocados are edible when he just ups and tells me he’s The Devil.

I pause a moment, and I’m like, “Okay.” And I go back to my burrito cause, no time for crazy, right?

Then he’s like, “Told you you wouldn’t believe me.”

“And you were right,” I answered.

“Well, you should believe,” he insisted.

“Okay,” I said, again.

“No really, you should,” he insisted again. “Cause I am. I really am.”

And I’m like, “Dude look, either you are . . . The Devil . . . Or you think you are. Why would I argue with either one of those guys?”

He laughed at this and said Genghis Khan and John Lennon both said the same thing.

So just for kicks, I’m like, “Did they sell you their souls?”

“One of them,” he answered.

“Which one?” I asked, but he wasn’t at liberty to tell.

“Nondisclosure clause in their contract.”

So then I go, “Can I sell you my soul?”

And he’s like, “Yeah, sure. What’s your price?”

And I answered so readily I surprised myself. I said, “Fame and fortune. Millions. Hundreds of millions. American dollars. And real fame, not no social media Instagram fame. I’m talking featured speaker at Davos fame. Oh yeah, add two inches to my tongue.”

“Tongue elongation,” he responded, genuinely impressed. “That’s a first.”

“So we have a deal?” I asked.

“Do we have a deal?” he chuckled. “C’mon, kid. You know how long I’ve been buying souls? I have more souls than I know what to do with. And on top of that there’s 7-billion people in the world. It’s a buyer’s market. The best I can do is give you like really good conga drum skills or the ability to make a killer fried rice.”

“Fried rice? For my soul?”

“Don’t think so small, kid. Look at what these Chipotle guys did with a burrito.”