Frequently, people will approach the rocket as it sits parked between services or running resupply missions. They want to know if we’re open, where we will be next, what the hell is a rocket, what kind of food do we serve, etc. Most of these encounters are friendly and the exchange of information usually results in at least mild laughter and a general sense of well being. However, one encounter recently left a sour taste in our mouths. I will fictionalize the encounter so as not to embarrass the nitwit with whom this exchange took place.
This person ambled up to the rocket and gave a knock on the door. They then asked a lot of questions regarding the operation of a mobile food business. We are always happy to talk to people about the profession which we love. But this individual was one of these types, who, as you answered their question, kept talking so as not to absorb in any earnest fashion what you were telling them. We all know this type of person, a know it all.
So, the “conversation” goes around and around and the person in question then declares his intentions . . . start a food truck, keep costs as low as possible by buying cheap stuff, apply a hefty markup (because of their superior marketing abilities), and then make a killing! They thought that our emphasis on quality ingredients was ridiculous in a “truck environment”. And so, we parted ways.
The thought kept going through my mind that we could grab this grifter, shove them into the rocket, dispatch them in some quick manner and then dump the body somewhere, thus saving the lovely citizens of Providence from this culinary quackery. Alas, we are law abiding gastronauts and let this asshole wander back into the now darkening twilight.