Advancement by Guido Martini

I was recently over at a friend's house for a barbeque. This was no ordinary meat over charcoal affair. Well, it was, but the meat wasn't ordinary, and neither was the charcoal. We had to drive to a place, which sold vacuum-sealed meat in boxes. 8 filet mignon steaks for 60 bucks. It was going to be a special night.
Conveniently this establishment happened to also be a BBQ supply shop. Most of the grill units on display looked better than kitchens I'd been accustomed to. I wondered what these customers' kitchens must have been like, yet alone their homes. We were there for charcoal too. Hawaiian charcoal.
"It's the most natural coal you can cook on. No contaminants in it, and it'll enhance the flavor of the meat."
I said, "OK man. I trust you."
After all, this guy's favorite dish is Kobe beef. He knows his meat, with great anticipation I'll be taking a back seat on this one.
The cashiers bantered with him a little. Yes, he looked different without the five-inch goatee. He gave them an example of how people treated him differently when he had it, other drivers in particular.
"I could cut into another lane without any hassle. Now, they don't give me the time."
He must have looked dangerous. Don't fuck with the biker driving a Merc. We laughed and he chose three steak knives from the box near the till. I wondered if the display position was a wise one.
They mentioned that in three weeks, there would be a 60% discount on all beef which he should take advantage of. Dammit, ruining the moment like that with their salesmen tactics.
"How do you like them?" he asked while pulling out of the parking lot.
"Medium rare. Sometimes rare"
"Yeah me too. I messed up last time. Cooked them too long. I'll be more careful tonight."
"Like I said, I trust you. It's your show, man. Let me get the beers."
We stopped by the supermarket. Even the busboys recognized him and the banter continued. He's a cool guy, it's only natural.
Back at his place we started to get everything in order. Vegetables sliced, meat marinated, grill positioned on the terrace, charcoal bag sliced open. He poured a pyramid of it in the bowl, carefully rearranging certain pieces in a way that made sense to him.
Stepping back, he rubbed his hands together, then placed one on my shoulder ready to describe the ensuing operation, "OK, so I'm going to douse the coal around here and at the base. Then we'll light it. We're looking to ignite the seed. It's all about the seed."
As he said this he was unknowingly swaying slowly from side to side, then up and down, simian-like.
I interrupted his explanation.
"Do you realize this is probably the oldest conversational topic between two humanoids?"
We laughed about it as our ancestors peeked from our DNA, in awe of how flint stones and sticks were replaced by plastic lighters and fluid.