Talking to Strangers
Last weekend I went out with a guy named Simon. We ended up doing a lot of different things.
We had dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. A redneck (but a nice-enough-seeming one) and his wife were forced to sit right smack next to us. They stared at us all through their meal. Somewhere between interested and awestruck, like we were monkeys at the zoo doing something something naturistically naughty.
After dinner, we went to the movies and sat in an ambiently lighted area waiting for our show to begin. I asked Simon if his shoes were brown. Yes, they were, he said. I asked Simon if his socks were black. No, they were not, he said. They were dark brown. “Okay,” I said. “That’s okay, then. You’re only wearing three neutrals instead of four.” It makes me sad when people wear more than two neutrals at a time but, with men, I’ve become resigned to it.
“What do you mean, three neutrals?” he said.
How sad. He didn’t even know what neutrals were. I had to explain. Then I pointed his out to him. “You have brown shoes and socks, gray pants, and a white shirt.”
“Actually, my pants are brown, too.”
“No… I’m sorry, but they’re gray.”
“Actually, they’re brown.”
“No… at the very most, they’re taupe, but they’re really just…”
“Taupe? No, they’re definitely not taupe. They’re brown,” said Simon. Right at that point, a man passing by with a tub of popcorn interrupted our debate.
“No, man – she’s got you. Those pants are totally gray,” said the guy. Simon graciously acknowledged defeat and thanked the gentleman for his kind advice.
Later, in better light, I saw that the pants were brown. Yes, I did apologize. While laughing.
We went to one of the trendier thrift stores in town. Working behind its counter was a make-up-faced, Robert-Smith-haired, very beautiful boy. We stole glances at him while waiting in line.
“Oh, my gosh. That guy TOTALLY looks like Jennifer Anniston!” I said.
“What? You think so? I don’t know…” said Simon.
“Don’t look at his hair or his body. Only look at his face,” I said, holding my hands up to block out the non-Jennifer-Anniston-looking parts. The woman in front of us turned around and told me, “I was totally thinking the same thing! He looks just like her!”
I thanked her. Then I went up to the guy to let him know our verdict. He was flattered and even more beautiful up close. I wished we’d had a camera phone.
Way, way later, Simon and I reviewed what we’d seen and done.
“What was up with those rednecks staring at us?” I said. “It was like they’d never seen non-rednecks eating before!”
“Yeah… I think they were eavesdropping on our conversation,” Simon said.
“Really? What the hell were we talking about that was so fascinating to them?” I said.
“Um… I don’t really remember,” said Simon. “Maybe… I think there was one point at which we were saying something about sex.”
“Really?” I said. “I don’t remember that. What were we saying?”
“Hmm. Well… I think maybe I was saying something about… anal sex.”
“What? Were you? I don’t remember that. When did you… Oh, wait – that’s right. I remember now! I was telling you how this one guy I’d gone out with was totally obsessed with… And then you… Wait. Hey… you didn’t say anything about anal sex. Only I did.”
“Did you? Hmm. I don’t remember.”
“Oh my god! It wasn’t us, it was only me. Dude – was I talking that loud? I was trying to talk quiet on that part! Jeez – did they really hear me? How embarrassing for you…”
“No, no. Not at all. You were talking very quietly. They were just eavesdropping. They were being really quiet so they could hear our conversation.”
It was at that moment that I realized that Simon wasn’t just a nice guy. He was a really nice guy.
I had fun last weekend. I hope everyone around us did, too.
