Shelby Lives or: the mid-day tragedy

Hey, free lunchers out there. You may think you know what Free Lunch for Life is all about, but you don’t even know the half of it. To be honest with you, we’re not sure either. To get started on your way, it will help to learn a little about the origin of the aforementioned phrase. There are many legends out there regarding Free Lunch for Life, all of which are ambiguous, mystical, and slightly mind-altering. The following is one such speculation:

If there is only one meaning to the phrase, “Free Lunch for Life,” then it was taken to the great beyond by Shelby Connor, hunger artist. Bradley and I were at a local eatery one day, waiting for our food. We had just ordered drinks when Shelby Connor, pale and emaciated, managed to stagger through the entrance, and almost inaudibly whisper “Free lunch for life” before collapsing near our table. His youth small t-shirt—white, except for the yellowed areas around the collar and pits—read “Hunger artist” across the chest. Someone ran, got the manager, and got on the phone to call the ambulance. It was too late, though. The manager tried to revive the collapsed pile of bones on the floor, but really, it was just too late. After a few (hundred) attempts at artificial respiration, the manager looked up and around at nearly everyone watching intently throughout the restaurant and started to cry. She was on her knees. She buried her face in her hands and repeated, “He’ll never come here again” over and over until the paramedics appeared and showed Mr. Shelby Conner out—in a body bag, of course.

Brad and I just looked at each other, absolutely bewildered. We were confused and hungry. Mostly confused. “I wonder what that was supposed to mean,” he whispered so as not to break the overall mood.

“Aw come on, man” I thought he was being disrespectful at this point, but I didn’t want to reproach him in public, lest he hate me. “He’s dead, Brad. Get it? He’s not going to come here ever again.”

“Oh. No no!” Brad corrected himself. “I didn’t mean that. I meant the whole,” he grabbed at his chest, crossed his eyes, and feigned struggled breathing, “‘Free lunch for Life’ thing. What was that supposed to mean?”

I opened my eyes wide. He posed a good question. I looked away at sports paraphernalia all over the restaurant walls, then back at Brad. I could vaguely make out what other people around us were talking about, but I bet they were talking about Shelby, as we were all talking about Shelby. Our server had informed us that Shelby Connor would stop by every now and then to give them flyers advertising his personal website.

“You know,” I responded, “that is a good question. What the hell was that supposed to mean, anyway?”

“Exactly, Angel. Did he want a handout from this place forever or did he–”

“Just want a little bit of sustenance so he could keep being…you know, a hunger artist?” We were on the same wavelength.

“I mean,” Bradley added, “I don’t think a professional would have let this happen.” He also pointed out that the hunger artist thing did put a little bit of a different spin on things.

“Yep.” I raised up my glass as if to make a toast. “Amateur work, I know.”

“I guess the important thing,” Brad began “is that we use this phrase to improve our lives and the lives of those around us. We’ll dedicate ourselves to dissecting and defining what it truly means to receive free lunch for life. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll just register the domain name and we’ll put silly things on a website…all in the name of Shelby.”

“Of course. Sounds good to me.”

We found out later that Shelby Connor had a web cam set up so that he could show the world how fasting was done. His personal site, and the clips on youtube didn’t really shed any insight into what he meant about his free lunch. Perhaps we’ll never know. Who knows, maybe each of us will be confronted with a “Free Lunch for Life” moment: a moment when we catch an arcane glimpse of the world and of all existence…then say something ambiguous before collapsing to the ground while wearing a t-shirt with a stupid saying on it. Free lunch for life? “Live for lunch freely,” is what I say. Well, I say it now. Actually, I never say that.