dinner conversation

[This is part (probably the beginning) of what will hopefully become a larger, more awesome piece in the near future.]

"Baby," I looked at her and said, "I think you might just be my soulmate."

It was our third date and things were going well. Olive Garden seemed a bit crowded for a Tuesday, but the wait hadn't been excruciating. Grace seemed to be enjoying herself so far and I was much less nervous than I had been on our previous dates

"Souls can't mate, Jack. They don't have genitalia."

My first date with Grace was to a movie and our second was a group date sort of thing with two other couples, so this was our first chance to really talk for an extended period of time.

"Typical," I said, "Everything's about sex with you."

She arched her eyebrows slightly. "You're one to talk with your porn star name, Jack Redman."

I affected a bit of a pseudo-British accent, "Actually, it's John Tyler Redman the third."

"Oh…I see. Like the president?"

"That's right. Number ten. Practically a founding father. Beats being named after Taft I guess."

Grace chuckled to herself. "You know…Taft was eaten by wolves."

"Really? Wolves? I wasn't aware." I took a sip of my ice water. "And what's your middle name, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Actually, Grace is my middle name. My first name is Whitney."

I managed to stop myself from making the obvious "danger is my middle name" reference, figuring she'd heard it a million times. "Whitney Grace Connors, huh? How very sorority girl of you. I'm surprised you didn't go to Vassar." Grace has dyed black hair and a lip ring and "dressed up" for our date by wearing Dr. Martens instead of her usual checkerboard Vans, so I knew that one would hit her where she lived.

She chuckled slightly again. I really dig her laugh. "Yeah…I guess I'm a real disappointment."

Steve, our waiter, returned to the table with the signature Olive Garden salad bowl and watched while we served ourselves, waiting to offer us some grated cheese. I accepted. Grace declined.

"No cheese? Are you vegan or something?" I nodded thanks to Steve as he walked away.

"Were you not here when I ordered the veal parmesan?"

I shrugged. "I don't know…I figured maybe you love animals, but really hate baby cows for some reason. You watched a baby cow murder your parents when you were seven?"

"That's it." Grace faked wiping away a tear. "I'll never forget that sight. The heartless bastard just stood there chewing his cud, redigesting their torn flesh while they slowly bled to death in front of us."

"How traumatic. I think I saw the Lifetime movie about it now that you mention it. Wasn't your mother played by Judith Light?"

"It was Meredith Baxter Burney, actually. Brilliant actress. I just wish they hadn't picked a young Tori Spelling to play me." Grace was sniffling now, pretending to blot her eyes with her napkin.

"Tori Spelling, huh? I didn't realize her dad had pull over at Lifetime too."

"Never doubt power of Aaron Spelling. If he could land her a role opposite an acting legend like Dustin Diamond, he could do anything."

"Point taken. It's a good thing he's dead now or Tori would be getting an Oscar nomination."

Grace had let up on the fake crying by now and took a bite of her salad. "I don't know, Jack. It hasn't been confirmed yet, but I think his powers may just work from beyond the grave."

I put on my best generic serious actor voice. "God. Help. Us. All." The salad was tasty, not to vinegary this time. "So what sort of trouble did you get into today, Ms. Connors?"

"No trouble, sir. Just went shopping."

"Really? How is the gang down at Hot Topic?"

Grace did this cute thing where she bared her teeth and looked like she was going to growl. "You're one to talk, Mr. Thrift Store. 'Ooh…look at me. I'm so hip and ironic with my secondhand t-shirts. I only wear clothes somebody died in.'"

"Dude…who told you that I tried to buy hospital ID bracelets after I saw that chick in Constantine?"

Grace crunched on a crouton. "You're a sick, sick man."

I stuck out my tongue. "Takes one to know one."

"Oh…so I'm a drag queen now? What does that make you?"

"Eddie Murphy?"

We both laughed and there was a bit of a lull in the conversation while we took a break to eat. Grace broke the silence while I was twisting some noodles around my fork.

"Did you see Bush's speech today? What a retard."

I took a bite and shrugged my shoulders. Grace plays bass in a band called Crossbone Syndicate with her older brother. DC hardcore. Very political. My band plays shows with hers, but we tend to sing more about relationships and real life incidents. Sort of Brand New meets At the Drive-In. We were called Star Crunch at the time of the date, but now we go by The Alphabet Exchange.

Grace continued her thought. "Just what we need: more dumb Americans over there raping and pillaging and killing innocent civilians."

I took a sip of my iced tea and spoke softly. "Umm…Grace…I should probably go ahead and tell you that I'm a military brat and my younger brother's stationed in Afghanistan right now."

"Oh." Grace looked down at the table and took a quick bite of veal. Steve came by and refilled my tea. I took a couple of sips and bit into a breadstick. The napkin they put on them really manages to keep them warm. Grace was looking off at another table by this point, probably afraid to make eye contact.

"Hey, Grace, you know what I hate?"

Grace looked back at me, trying hard to keep a neutral expression on her face. "What's that?" she asked.

"Jews and black people," I said, managing to keep a straight face.

Grace laughed and shook her head.

"It's terrible. The Jews run Hollywood and the media. And black people crucified Jesus and shot JFK."

She looked around to make sure there were no people of color or wearing yarmulke in the vicinity. "And don't forget about Tupac and Biggie."

"That's right! Black people shot Tupac and Biggie," I said. "I almost forgot."

"And I'm sure they shot 50 Cent too."

"No, that was Woody Allen. Dirty Jew."

"Oh yeah…I read that on the internet. And didn't Jerry Seinfeld kill Aaron Spelling?"

I laughed a bit. "Nope. I hear from a reliable source that Yahweh himself smited Mr. Spelling out of jealousy. Or smote maybe? Seinfeld may have killed Elvis and Kurt Cobain though. Authorities are still looking into it." I took a bite of my pasta, which was mediocre by the way. Olive Garden never really impresses me.

"This is so informative, Jack. What else have the Jews been up to lately?"

"Well…I heard that John Stewart…"

"…whoa…leave John out of this."

"Sorry. I forgot that he's God to you dirty liberals."

"At least he's not Bill O'Reilly. Ugh." Grace fake-shuddered.

"I'm not a Fox News fan actually. I prefer Joe Scarborough."

"Welcome to Scarborough Country," Grace deadpanned. "No Passport required. Check your brain at the door."

We playfully argued about news pundits for a while and finished up our meals. Grace looked a bit sad when Steve brought our check. That's always a good sign, right? Steve didn't charge us for our drinks.