Labor Day BBQ: Artie & Matt
Sep. 4th, 2023 10:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsArtie and Matt chat at the BBQ about food and the annoyances of having enhanced taste
Matt didn't find Artie around the mansion that much, he seemed to stay more in the city. When they worked together, Matt went to the brownstone. It was something of a hassle with the subway from Westchester, but worth it to spend time in New York. So when he caught the other man's scent at the cookout, he headed over to say hi, "You came out all this way for the burgers, didn't you? Because I know it wasn't for the hotdogs," not when hot dogs bought from street carts or better yet, from Gray's Papaya, were infinitely better.
Artie turned to face him and smiled. "It was for the hotdogs, actually. Gar puts too much pepper in his burgers. They're a bit spicy."
Making a face at the sheer insanity of leaving NYC for the hot dogs, Matt tried not to be too judgemental and failed. It was hot dogs. "You don't like spicy?" he had a relatively low tolerance, but he thought Garrison's burgers were good.
Artie used the inflection markers he and Doug had painstakingly devised so that his voice, when he used the synthesizer, sounded natural but didn't bother to mime the speech itself. The tone would be enough here, deliberately light, not the full illusion he could speak. "Nah. I'm sensitive to spice. Pepper, chilli, acidic flavour get all in my sinuses."
Ah. Matt nodded, "I've discovered a difference between heat and spice, if that makes sense?" Taking to Artie with his synthesizer was a little weird, but he'd gotten used to it. Mostly, they communicated via email where both of them were on a slightly more level playing field with their respective disabilities. "I used to think that were the same, but Foggy spent a good month trying to separate them so I could tell the difference in college. It was back when he was leaning Punjabi."
"They are different but every second guy thinks pepper can just be included in things without anyone noticing. And I don't like too much salt ..." Artie paused sheepishly. "I shouldn't admit it but I'm actually really picky."
Matt nodded, understanding. "Your powers?" he asked, remembering that Artie's tongue was different, which contributed to why he couldn't speak. "I was very picky before I got a decent handle on mine."
"My powers," Artie agreed. "The physical changes impacted how I taste things. I have a handle on it. I know what foods I don't like."
Everyone has food they didn't care for, for one reason or another. "Yeah, I'm not sure anything will make me like anchovies. Too salty."
Artie nodded sagely. "Word. Or broccoli."
"What's wrong with the little trees?" he asked curious. That's what his dad had called broccoli. They'd eaten it frozen, along with other vegetables. He'd hated it, because it was bland, but he'd learned later that was because his father couldn't cook, not because they weren't good when done correctly.
"Well, it's a bit bitter most of the time," Artie replied.
"Are you a super taster?" It tracked with his powers, but Matt was fascinated. He had enhanced taste, but it wasn't bitter to him. It was amazing how much variety they're was even within similar mutations.
Artie eyed him cautiously. "If I say yes, are you going to make it weird?" he asked finally.
Matt nodded, smiling, "Absolutely. But then, enhanced senses includes taste. So... similar bucket," pot and kettle so to speak.
Artie laughed silently. "At least you have super senses which might stop people being terrible about it."
Okay, making it weird and making it unpleasant weren't the same thing, "If people are shitty," he said, "Text Foggy. He's good at dealing with that in ways people don't expect. Or me. He's just closer in the city."
Artie smiled. "Thanks. I can fight my own battles these days but damn, people get weird when you're on the no salad train or the mayo is too acidic in larger amounts one. Like I haven't already tried enough salads to have opinions about the entire genre of salad. I mean, they have."
"Well sure," Matt nodded, "but that doesn't mean you have to always do it alone. I know if the meat or fish isn't fresh and I cannot eat it. So what was fine yesterday is terrible today and then I look like I'm being picky and finicky and wanting attention. When that's not it at all."
"Exactly."
Matt didn't find Artie around the mansion that much, he seemed to stay more in the city. When they worked together, Matt went to the brownstone. It was something of a hassle with the subway from Westchester, but worth it to spend time in New York. So when he caught the other man's scent at the cookout, he headed over to say hi, "You came out all this way for the burgers, didn't you? Because I know it wasn't for the hotdogs," not when hot dogs bought from street carts or better yet, from Gray's Papaya, were infinitely better.
Artie turned to face him and smiled. "It was for the hotdogs, actually. Gar puts too much pepper in his burgers. They're a bit spicy."
Making a face at the sheer insanity of leaving NYC for the hot dogs, Matt tried not to be too judgemental and failed. It was hot dogs. "You don't like spicy?" he had a relatively low tolerance, but he thought Garrison's burgers were good.
Artie used the inflection markers he and Doug had painstakingly devised so that his voice, when he used the synthesizer, sounded natural but didn't bother to mime the speech itself. The tone would be enough here, deliberately light, not the full illusion he could speak. "Nah. I'm sensitive to spice. Pepper, chilli, acidic flavour get all in my sinuses."
Ah. Matt nodded, "I've discovered a difference between heat and spice, if that makes sense?" Taking to Artie with his synthesizer was a little weird, but he'd gotten used to it. Mostly, they communicated via email where both of them were on a slightly more level playing field with their respective disabilities. "I used to think that were the same, but Foggy spent a good month trying to separate them so I could tell the difference in college. It was back when he was leaning Punjabi."
"They are different but every second guy thinks pepper can just be included in things without anyone noticing. And I don't like too much salt ..." Artie paused sheepishly. "I shouldn't admit it but I'm actually really picky."
Matt nodded, understanding. "Your powers?" he asked, remembering that Artie's tongue was different, which contributed to why he couldn't speak. "I was very picky before I got a decent handle on mine."
"My powers," Artie agreed. "The physical changes impacted how I taste things. I have a handle on it. I know what foods I don't like."
Everyone has food they didn't care for, for one reason or another. "Yeah, I'm not sure anything will make me like anchovies. Too salty."
Artie nodded sagely. "Word. Or broccoli."
"What's wrong with the little trees?" he asked curious. That's what his dad had called broccoli. They'd eaten it frozen, along with other vegetables. He'd hated it, because it was bland, but he'd learned later that was because his father couldn't cook, not because they weren't good when done correctly.
"Well, it's a bit bitter most of the time," Artie replied.
"Are you a super taster?" It tracked with his powers, but Matt was fascinated. He had enhanced taste, but it wasn't bitter to him. It was amazing how much variety they're was even within similar mutations.
Artie eyed him cautiously. "If I say yes, are you going to make it weird?" he asked finally.
Matt nodded, smiling, "Absolutely. But then, enhanced senses includes taste. So... similar bucket," pot and kettle so to speak.
Artie laughed silently. "At least you have super senses which might stop people being terrible about it."
Okay, making it weird and making it unpleasant weren't the same thing, "If people are shitty," he said, "Text Foggy. He's good at dealing with that in ways people don't expect. Or me. He's just closer in the city."
Artie smiled. "Thanks. I can fight my own battles these days but damn, people get weird when you're on the no salad train or the mayo is too acidic in larger amounts one. Like I haven't already tried enough salads to have opinions about the entire genre of salad. I mean, they have."
"Well sure," Matt nodded, "but that doesn't mean you have to always do it alone. I know if the meat or fish isn't fresh and I cannot eat it. So what was fine yesterday is terrible today and then I look like I'm being picky and finicky and wanting attention. When that's not it at all."
"Exactly."
