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An original work of fiction
by Lefty
Installment 9
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STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The following is based on a
true story. It is at least as true as any current Made-for-TV movie
now being shown. All names have been changed to protect any affected
party. Some names have been changed several times. The author reserves
the right for any vaguely autobiographical portion of the following
to reflect more positively on his persona than would otherwise be true
in reality. Please cut some slack to any recognized person, place or
thing, however fictionalized it may be. END DISCLAIMER
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This is the ninth installment of Lefty's continuing saga. You may want
to read the first installment to give
you some idea of the trials and tribulations leading up to the current
dilemma.
Dating in the 90s:Parity Error
Chapter 2: The Fairness of Life, Installment 9
Rehash
No further incidents mar our walk to the restaurant. We continue to
rehash the "asshole incident" on the way there. "Leah, I am very impressed
with your feistiness!", I tell her. "I know it's probably just the New
York 'tude showing up, but I think that it's important for any date
to be able to handle herself in an altercation. My old girlfriend carried
pepper spray. I like the pepper spray idea, but there is a certain beauty
and justice in planning to whop some asshole from behind."
Leah basks in my flattery. "Thank you. I am not one of those shrinking
violets. She performs a little curtsy, and then dances in a circle on
her toes. "Sometimes I use my confrontational skills more than my win/win
negotiating tactics. But I'm not at work now. And I am one of those
strong Jewish women that I'm sure your mom has told you about." Leah
puts her arm around me and squeezes me.
"Amen", I say, and escape out of her embrace just enough to open the
door of the restaurant. We have chosen a nice Mexican restaurant in
the South Bay. I resolve to order no dish with the words "jalapeño"
or "pepper" in it. I'm getting over my adrenaline rush and am beginning
to enjoy the evening again. I'm not injured and I'm accompanied by a
babe, or two. Things are looking up.
"Would you like a margarita?", the waiter inquires.
Leah looks horrified. "Oh no!" She looks at me and says, "It's OK
if you have an alcoholic drink." She looks back at the waiter and says,
"I'll have an Evian please."
 I
had been thinking about ordering a margarita or a Bud Light. "Coke please",
I tell the waiter and he walks away with our drink orders.
Leah gives me a look. "Listen, it's OK if you order alcohol. I never
drank too much BEFORE, but now I'm not going to eat anything unhealthy
because of my child. It will be a perfect embryonic stage for the perfect
babe."
"Uh huh", I say non-commmitedly. We are served our drinks, followed
by burritos and tamales. The food is quite good and we both comment
on it.
Gossip
"So Leah, it has been awhile since I've seen Taz. Our softball games
have been rained out and I haven't had a chance to talk with him. Have
you talked to Rose lately?"
"Actually Rose is not a close friend of mine", Leah replies while scooping
up some refried beans. "I'm very good friends with Dawn, and she's good
friends with Rose. I hear gossip from Dawn every now and then. I know
that Taz and Rose are still seeing each other. Rose likes Taz a lot
and thinks he is a very nice guy. Her child makes it a little hard for
them to get together though."
Killer Rice
"Huh? Rose has a kid?" I swallow my rice the wrong way and start coughing.
After a few whups on my back, I recover enough to begin gasping politely.
It usually doesn't take me more than ten minutes to regain my composure
after my air supply is cut off.
"You should watch that rice Shermie! It could be damaging to your health!
Maybe they had Cajun sauce in it."
After sufficient time passes, I am able to get back to the subject
that first grabbed my esophagus and comment, "Taz never told me that!
I didn't hear that when we all met the first time after temple services!"
"Yeah, she has a little three year old son. He's real nice and an
all-round cute little tyke", Leah says with a dreamy look. She is imagining
what it's like to have a three year old son. I give it a quick wonder,
but once again, I need more imagination. What does Taz think of the
kid? He never mentioned anything like that to me. Maybe we just haven't
shot the breeze recently.
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