So me and Page had Sushi with Dad last night for dinner. We ate at a tiny cafe table on the sidewalk, with the other outside diners. Page, the dog, sat quietly next to me, the Sushi was thin, like one coat was painted on the mattresses of white rice thin. The sushi rolls were okay but tiny and the bill was the usual gigantic $4.50 for every two pieces. We enjoyed hanging out with Dad, but then it was time to walk back to the car as we had an appointment at the dog park.
On our way back, we passed a brand new cup cake shop. Since Wasabi always makes me crave something sweet, I opened the door, stuck my face in the shop, nodded my head up to the baker, then looked down at the dog. The baker shook his head, “no.” No words were spoken till I said, “If you have a Carrot Cupcake, I’d let you help me out here.” To which the baker interpreted everything correctly and began preparing a cup cake to bring to me, while Page and I stood outside the hygienic shop patiently waiting and leaning against the open door.
The baker asked if I wanted a box to put it in, and I just replied, “Nope, I’m gonna take that thing and just shove it in my mouth.” And at that very moment, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, walks into the shop from behind me, commenting, “mmm, that sounds like a great idea…” to which me and Page just stood there, again frozen, wishing we had prepared better for that kind of surprise return.
You know, when you’re playing tennis and your first serve is amazing and after you whack it over and just know that it’s in the box and no one could ever return it, and you’re just standing there marveling at yourself, and all of a sudden your opponent returns it, but you are just so amazed at yourself, that you didn’t expect them to hit it back to you, and you lose the point completely?
So anyway, there I stood, with my dog between my legs as this beautiful woman lobbed this line back to my unexpected innuendo. I thought if I could freeze time, I could go home, get my lap top, work out some spec dialogue, send it around to some friends to correct the spelling and the grammar, then pick the best one and return to the scene of the crime and deliver in an aloof way, like James Bond. It would go something like this:
Me: “…nah, I’m just gonna shove it in my mouth…”
Her: “…mmm, that sounds good…”
Me: (once time resumed) “yeah, it sounds good, till you’re sitting there with icing all over your face.”
Then she might say something like, “… nah, you just gotta open up wide and put it all in there…”
Anyway, this little pornographic episode ended up just happening in my mind as me and Page walked back to the car with icing all over our face. “dammit!” I thought. Why can’t I be quicker on these witty exchanges?
One time, I was in the hot sauce aisle at the supermarket, and this amazing looking Latin woman was examining the jars in front of me. I reached over her shoulder and grabbed one and in my best Rico Suave sideways comment, I said, “It’s so hard to decide…” then she turned and gave me the once over and replied, “jess, some time, you’re in da mood for someting hot, ju know what I mean?” And that’s when the Jewish Nerd in me popped out and said, “yes, sometimes hot and chunky does the trick.” DOH! I wish I hadn’t said that, as she apparently had lost the urge for Salsa and moved on.
Another time, in a different supermarket, I was standing by the dairy cooler case, in my search for low-fat cottage cheese made with pineapple, when I noticed this long-legged Swedish looking lady examining the logs of chocolate chip cookie dough. Again, ready with the strong first serve, but not for the possibility of return, I went up to her and commented like out of a beach romance novel, “…my, that’s a lot for one person to handle.” To which she too, gave me the once over, and responded, “Not for me, I have a huge appetite…” to which the Nerdy Jew in me kicked in once again, only to reply with something amazingly un-witty like, “I like to under cook them so they’re soft and chewy.” She too had to go shop elsewhere…
I don’t know why these kinds of things happen to me. It’s as if there is some kind of lesson I’m supposed to learn, but I just can’t figure out the cosmic relevance just yet.
Another time, I was going for a run on a secluded trail. I was out in the middle of no where, it was early in the morning, right about day break, I was sure there wasn’t another soul out there. And after running about two miles, apparently I had sweat heavily into the deepest part of my rear end, and between the running, the heat and the sweat, it got incredibly itchy back there. I didn’t even bother turning around as it was just too early and too desolate for any other human to be out there besides me.
So I just kept running and reached back there and started digging at myself with some really deep, satisfying, personal scratching and just as I got to the itch in the most disgusting and awkward of running and scratching positions, this amazingly beautiful woman runs past me from behind and continues jogging on the trail in front of me.
I don’t know what kind of witty remark would have resurrected me from that disgusting performance, but I should have known better and just did a quick head check before I started mining back there.
You know, for years I’ve disparaged myself for not being witty at bakeries and supermarkets or cleaner on running paths, but it just occurred to me that I might be unnecessarily harsh on myself. Maybe that lady at the cupcake place never even expected any retort and maybe the beautiful Latin lady, no hablar ingles! Maybe the Nordic Amazon woman really did have a big appetite and the lady that ran up behind me had her eyes closed or was looking down during the time I was scratching.
All that needless self beating up…oh, the drama’s we have in our own mind….