It all happened so fast.
But as fast as it was, it crushed any chances I had for asking this girl for a date.
I went to a wedding when I was in college and I had no one to bring. The groom convinced me to go because I knew a lot of the guests. I realize now they intentionally put me at a table where a single girl was. We sat across from each other and had some small talk. She laughed at some of the things I said and this got the attention of the couple to her left. They suggested we switch some seats around so we didn’t have to talk across the table. I was now between the girl and the groom’s Aunt Elaine who asked me if anyone ever told me I looked like Barry Manilow. I lied and told her “no.”
“What?” she asked a little too loudly, then an odd squeal came from the side of her head.
“No,” I repeated.
It was a high pitched whistle, but long. It sounded like a dolphin.
“C’mere, Lainey, let me get that for ya.” Her husband Benny next to her leaned back in his chair and fumbled by her ear until the sound stopped. It seems she had a hearing aid that was getting feedback.
I’ll get right to the point when the curtain came down on my chances with this girl.
I stabbed a string bean.
That was the beginning of the end.
The girl was going on about her major in college, the professors, her schedule, etc. She had an air of confidence that bordered on snooty. I got the feeling her assessment of herself might have been higher than deserved, high enough to mothball the possibility of a date with Barry Manilow; nonetheless, I nodded with interest and continued eating.
The fork took more energy than expected to pierce the bean so I assumed it was as undercooked as everything else on the plate. But I committed to it and had to follow through. If I were at home I’d have plucked it off my fork and held it like a cigarette to annoy my mother but that would’ve drawn attention.
My big mistake was the placement- I jabbed the bean in the center. If it were overcooked and I did that it would just drape itself, lifelessly hanging off my fork but not this bastard, stiff as a pencil.
The girl’s tuition was being reimbursed or something when I brought the bean to my mouth.
I tightened the corners of my mouth hoping to snap the bean in half so I could chew it folded and still smile attentively at her reimbursement.
It bent like a boomerang and scraped the walls of my cheeks on its way in and when I withdrew the fork it sprang back to its original straight.
I had a tent pole in my mouth.
I looked like the Joker.
I dimpled my cheeks in and pushed at the bean with my tongue to break it in half inside my mouth.
“Are you ok?” She asked.
“Mm hmm,” I nodded confidently. I made a rolling motion with my fork signaling her to continue with whatever the hell she was talking about. At this point I was in full damage control and stopped listening.
There was no way I could snap the bean in my mouth so I relaxed my cheeks.
With my tongue I pushed one end toward my lips causing the other end to slap against the back of my throat. I gagged and instantly turned away from her so I could push half the bean out of my lips to pull it away from my pharynx. Now I was eye-to-eye with Flipper.
“Are you alright?(squeal)” My lips were in whistle position with about 3 inches of green bean sticking out.
“You’re crying?” She elbowed her husband, “Benny, he’s crying. Are you (squeal) ok?”
I nodded yes and she watched the bean go up and down, moving her head, whistling like a teapot, in unison until Benny’s hand came to the rescue. I chewed like an insane chipmunk pulverizing the half that was inside my mouth but I had to get back to the girl.
“John?”
(…crap)
I turned back to the girl with the hard half of the bean dangling from my lips, hanging by fibers. She watched me pull it in by making repeated kissy motions with my lips.
“Oh ok, uh, wow,” was all she said.
I flagged the waiter for a double scotch.
“A double?” he asked.
“I tell you what, just bring me the bottle and a straw.”