Woodchuck Martinis

  Chapter 16

  On Sucking the Life Out of a Date

  I had a date tonight with a guy I met at Joe’s Gizzard City over the weekend when I was out with the ladies. I had him pegged as the shy, quiet type and I decided this difference in our personalities would be a nice balance. We had danced a couple of slow songs together and when he asked for my phone number I was quite flattered as I had regarded other women’s almost swoon-like reactions to him throughout the evening. He was the sort of guy who simply turned heads. Although I must admit that I thought he was feeding me a line when he said that his name was...wait for it...Adonis.

  We met for dinner at Darb’s in downtown Eaton Rapids. I was wearing the great new strappy heels I had bought on my last trip to the mall after the dating disaster with Ezekiel. I had walked to the restaurant on this incredibly sunny, 60-degree day at the beginning of March in Michigan. I was sure this miraculous March weather was a sign of good things to come.

  I found a seat in the back with a great view of the front door so I could watch Adonis as he walked in. When he did enter the reactions of the patrons were the same as those at Joe’s Gizzard City; heads definitely turned in his direction. The combination of his light brown hair looking slightly tousled, his sharp green eyes, and barely shaven face certainly demanded attention. I could not wait for this date to begin.

  He spotted me and headed my direction. I noted the look of disappointment on the faces of a couple of ladies at the bar when they realized he was veering out of their line of fire.

  “Hello,” he said with his hand extended toward me. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Hi,” I said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “This is a nice place,” he said. “I’ve never been here.”

  “They have great food,” I said. “And if you want to play pool when we’re done eating, we can do that too.”

  “I don’t play pool,” he said taking a seat across from me. “Ever since my brother, Doug, knocked out my front tooth with the eight ball I’ve steered clear of the game.”

  “Your teeth look great,” I said. “I never would have guessed you had a front tooth replaced.”

  “It wasn’t replaced,” he said. “The one that got knocked out was a baby tooth. It was pretty traumatic, though. There was blood everywhere.”

  “That must have really hurt if you still remember it so clearly this many years later,” I said.

  “It sure did,” he said. “And I still think Doug did it on purpose. He was always jealous of me because I was the cute one.”

  “Ah, sibling rivalry,” I said. “Now that can stay with you for a lifetime.”

  “Not really,” he said. “Doug’s dead now.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said feeling quite uncomfortable and not really knowing what to say next.

  “Me too,” Adonis said.

  “Well, how about that menu,” I said trying to steer away from this terribly uncomfortable conversation. “Would you mind passing that over to me?”

  He passed the menu over and opened his own and started reading.

  “What’s good here?” he asked.

  “I’ve never had a bad meal here, and I’ve tried a number of the different menu items. You just can’t order wrong. Although my absolute favorite is the Cajun pasta. They use the most amazing spicy cream sauce and the chicken is like a little piece of Heaven.”

  “I don’t eat spicy food,” he said. “Doug made me eat a really hot chili pepper once and it blistered my tongue and throat. It hurt for days.”

  “Well, that wasn’t very nice,” I sympathized. “It’s amazing how mean kids can be to one another.”

  “We weren’t kids,” he said. “This was just a couple of years ago.”

  “Oh boy,” said Shallow Lucy.

  “Wow,” I said. “How was he able to get you to eat the chili?”

  “He tricked me,” Adonis answered. “He said it was a tiny pickle. I should never have believed him. I’m here to tell you that if anyone ever tries to get you to eat a tiny pickle, you should definitely read the label on the jar first!”

  “Live and learn, I guess,” I agreed. “I’ll keep that in mind. If you don’t like spicy foods then you might want to try the steak and grilled veggies. They’re out of this world.”

  “I don’t like steak,” he said. “I don’t like the way the juices drip on everything else on the plate.”

  “Psssst...Just want you to know I’m here for you,” said Shallow Lucy.

  “Well, I’m sure you can find something you like. They serve a great variety of foods here. Another one of my favorites is the vegetarian pizza.”

  “You’re not a vegetarian are you?” he asked.

  “No, but I do love the veggie pizza.”

  He looked over the menu for a while, breathed a heavy sigh, and put it back down.

  “What did you decide to order?” I asked.

  “Nothing looks good,” he said.

  “Nothing?” Shallow Lucy piped in. “The menu is four pages long. How could this man find NOTHING that appeals to him? Can you even trust a man who doesn’t absolutely love food? I mean, without the love of food what does one fall back on when wallowing in self pity? After being dumped for another woman? After being told, after sleeping with a guy for the first time, that you’re better off being friends? It’s just not right. Did I mention that the menu is four, single spaced pages long?”

  “Nothing?” I asked.

  “Nope, not a thing,” he replied.

  “Not the pasta?” I asked, quite dumbfounded.

  “Not the pasta,” he answered.

  “Not the pizza?”

  “Nope.”

  “The pot roast?”

  “Especially not the pot roast.”

  “Well,” I offered. “We could skip dinner and have dessert.”

  “Are you insinuating that I don’t want to pay for your dinner?” he asked clearly quite insulted.

  “No,” I stammered, “I just thought that since you didn’t find anything on the dinner menu, you might have better luck with the dessert menu.”

  He picked the menu back up and turned to the last page which was overflowing with decadent desserts.

  “Vanilla ice cream wouldn’t be too bad,” he said after a considerable review of the desserts.

  “Oh, my God!” Shallow Lucy shouted. “Vanilla ice cream? The calories and fat grams on the dessert page alone could add up to the tens of thousands. There are so many chocolate delicacies listed that one could go into a diabetic coma just fantasizing about them! And vanilla ice cream is the only thing that captures this man’s attention? UGH!!!! Get your purse. Let’s go.”

  “You’re judging him too harshly,” I said. “Maybe he’s having stomach issues that he doesn’t want to discuss. Perhaps his elderly mother invited him for lunch and he was just too polite to say no to seconds and thirds of the feast she had prepared which included all of his childhood favorites.”

  “His elderly mother?” Shallow Lucy said.

  “You never know,” I retorted.

  “Stomach issues?” Shallow Lucy asked.

  “Could be,” I argued. “And he’s too polite to discuss his gastrointestinal discomfort on our first date. That shows good manners.”

  “Then test him,” Shallow Lucy nagged.

  “Test him?”

  “Heck, yeah. Ask him if he’s feeling all right. Quit making excuses for this guy that you know is just plain picky and just plain...well...plain.”

  “There is nothing plain about this man. Just LOOK at him. He’s so damned good looking.”

  “Does he even have a mom?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Ask him.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I challenge you to get this man to say one thing positive...make just one pleasant statement.”

  “He’s not that bad.”

  “Is too
.”

  “Is not.”

  “Prove me wrong and I won’t bother you for the rest of your date with Mr. Doldrums.”

  “Fine.”

  Adonis put down his menu and was staring at a full-sized statue of Captain Morgan as if mesmerized.

  “So, do you have family in the area?” I asked.

  “No, not since my brother died.” Wow, that’s a bit depressing. But I was determined to prove that Shallow Lucy wrong. And yet at some level, I knew I should be listening to her logical advice that I tend to tune out all too often.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”

  “Do you always ask so many questions?”

  “Sorry, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

  Just then my son’s long-time friend, Matt, approached. He was the best server they had.

  “Just to let you know,” Matt said, “it’s Karaoke night. It starts at 9:00 on the other side of the restaurant. If you came for that then you might want to move to the other side when you’re done with your meal. It will fill up pretty fast in the next hour or so.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I love Karaoke; that would be nice.”

  “May I take your orders?” Matt asked.

  “I’d like the Cajun pasta,” I answered.

  “I’ll have some vanilla ice cream,” Adonis answered.

  “Would you like the ice cream plain or with a topping? We have strawberry, hot fudge, and caramel.”

  “Just the ice cream, thanks,” Adonis said.

  Well now I was feeling mighty uncomfortable. I had ordered a full meal and Adonis would just sit and watch me eat it, vanilla ice cream melting in a bland little puddle in comparison to the spicy party I’d have in my mouth. And yet if I took back my order he may chastise me again about insinuating he’s a cheapskate. What to do? What to do?

  “I’ll tell you what to do,” Shallow Lucy piped in. “You enjoy your pasta and let Mr. Happy wallow in his vanilla wonderland.”

  “But it seems so rude to eat such incredible food in front of him,” I said.

  “It’s not like he couldn’t be enjoying a great meal too. He looked at the same menu you ordered from. You didn’t hold a gun to his head and demand that he order Malto Meal.”

  “All right,” I agreed. “I’ll just enjoy the pasta. What have I got to lose?”

  “You might as well enjoy the food because the company’s certainly not the best you’ve encountered.”

  “You’re judging him too quickly,” I said. “Give the guy a chance.”

  “Again I challenge you to get the guy to say anything upbeat. Or ask even one question about you. So far this whole painfully boring meeting has been all about him.”

  “And if I can prove you wrong, you’ll leave me alone with this unbelievably handsome man?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “No questions asked and no whining?”

  “Agreed.”

  Matt gathered up our menus and walked away.

  “Doesn’t spicy food give you gas?” Adonis asked.

  “Not typically,” I said. “Maybe I’m immune. I grew up in New Mexico and we ate a lot of spicy food.”

  There, I had given him the perfect opening to ask more questions about my life.

  “The only Mexican food I eat is tacos,” he said.

  “I like tacos, too,” I offered. “What’s your favorite Mexican restaurant?”

  “I just said I don’t eat Mexican food,” Adonis said.

  Clearly we did not share an interest in food. I decided to try to get him to talk about something that could invoke a positive response to assure that Shallow Lucy would not continue to pester me throughout the evening.

  “Where do you work?” I asked.

  “I’m a night watchman at the sewage treatment facility in Lansing,” he answered.

  “That must be an interesting job,” I said, still hoping for that elusive enthusiastic response.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, an eyebrow cocked at such an angle as to make him look a bit suspicious.

  “There must be some interesting aspects of your job,” I said hopefully.

  “I walk around a sewage treatment facility...at night...with no other humans in sight. To really bring up the level of excitement I check the boilers occasionally and use the industrial-sized skimmers to remove floating rodents.”

  “Still, I’ll bet you have some great stories about unusual items that you find in the tanks.”

  “Nope. Not really.”

  “Do you like your job?” I asked.

  “Would you?” he answered.

  Thankfully the food arrived and frankly I could not wait to indulge and be free of this deeply unpleasant conversation. Matt placed our plates before us and the Heavenly odor of the Cajun cream sauce wafted gently inviting me to join in a game of culinary foreplay. At that moment I just did not care how negative this man chose to be at every turn for I could soothe my soul with the meal at hand.

  I dipped my fork in and twirled the perfect amount of pasta and sauce, took a bite, closed my eyes, and had an orgasm in my mouth. I slathered a generous amount of butter onto a piece of freshly made sourdough bread and thought I might just melt into my seat. Nothing could have been more perfect. And then Adonis spoke up.

  “They put whipped cream on my ice cream,” he pouted.

  “Oh, my God!” Shallow Lucy shouted. “Call 911! A heinous crime has taken place right here at Darb’s!”

  “You don’t like whipped cream?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “I told the waiter specifically not to put anything on the ice cream.”

  “You told him you didn’t want a topping,” I said. “I don’t remember you mentioning whipped cream.”

  “Does whipped cream not sit on top of the ice cream?” he said in a bit of a snippy tone.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Then it’s a topping. And he shouldn’t have put it on.”

  “Can you scrape it off?” I asked, just wanting to get back to my own fabulous meal without listening to this man continue to whine.

  “I’ll still be able to taste it,” he said.

  “Then ask Matt to bring you another bowl of ice cream without the whipped cream,” I suggested. I could hear the pasta calling me, begging me to eat it before it got cold. “Matt’s a great guy; he’ll be happy to bring you another bowl.”

  “By the time he gets back with the next bowl you’ll be finished with your dinner.”

  “It’s not like he has to prepare another meal for you,” I said. “He only has to scoop more ice cream into a bowl. I’m sure it won’t take but a couple of minutes.”

  “Forget it,” Adonis said, “I don’t want the waiter to think I’m a complainer.” He pushed the bowl back, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and sighed.

  “Well, there’s a load of irony,” Shallow Lucy piped in. “He doesn’t want the waiter to think he’s a complainer. He hasn’t said anything positive yet, but at least he said something really funny! You think it’s time to plan your exit strategy yet?”

  “But he’s just so good looking,” I answered wistfully. “Let’s give him a bit more time. If the date turns out to be a complete failure, at least I’ll have more time to look at his unbelievably handsome face for a while longer.”

  “You mean it’s not a total failure yet?”

  “I still have my pasta. How could it be a failure? Besides maybe we just haven’t found a subject that he’s passionate about yet. I’ll work on that.”

  “It hurts me to watch you do this to yourself, it really does,” Shallow Lucy said. “It’s so obvious it’s not going to get any better. But go right ahead, I’ll be here to sweep up the pieces of your tragically broken heart when reality sinks in.”

  “Don’t be such a drama queen,” I scolded.

  Adonis interrupted my thoughts then.

  “Would you mind
if we switch seats?” he was saying. “The baseball game’s on and you have a better view from where you’re sitting.”

  “No problem,” I said. I got up and carried my meal to the other side of the table, pushed his untouched, melted vanilla ice cream to the side, and sat with my back to the muted big screen television set on the wall. The pasta was still warm and so life was pretty damned good.

  “Do you like baseball?” Adonis asked.

  “I really don’t watch any sports,” I said.

  “That’s too bad,” he said. “Because I’m kind of a baseball statistics nut. I have some fascinating information I can share about the subject.”

  Matt approached just then.

  “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

  “Another glass of wine, please.” I said.

  “Can you turn up the volume on the game?” Adonis asked.

  “Karaoke will be starting in a few minutes,” he said. “When that’s going on we leave the television on mute.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said. “It’s supposed to be a hell of a game tonight.”

  “Did you want me to get you set up with a table on the other side before the Karaoke starts?” asked Matt.

  “That would be great,” I said.

  “Actually I’m perfectly happy right where I’m at,” said Adonis. “You don’t mind if we just watch the game, do you?”

  “Don’t you like Karaoke?” I said.

  “I don’t sing,” he answered, eyes glued to the television set.

  “And if he did sing,” Shallow Lucy said, “it would only be the blues anyway.” She giggled at her own joke.

  “You don’t enjoy hearing other people sing?” I said wanting so much to be on the other side of the room where I could hear people laughing and joking. I could see the DJ setting up the stage and people choosing the songs they wanted to sing.

  “Most of them are just awful anyway,” Adonis said. “Frankly, Karaoke hurts my head.”

  “Frankly, this guy hurts my head,” Shallow Lucy piped in. “Now it’s time to plan your exit strategy, right?”

  “Not quite yet,” I insisted. “Now that I’ve found something he can talk about that he truly loves maybe he’ll liven up a bit. Besides I need to keep my mind open to new experiences. Maybe it will turn out that I really like watching baseball. That would be great if we had something like that in common.”

  “It’s not going to happen and you know it,” Shallow Lucy sniped back. “But you go right ahead and wait for it. I’ll be here when you come to your senses to pick you up, dust you off, and get you home where you can use your time on something much more interesting...like cleaning the wax out of your ears.”

  “Give the guy a break; he doesn’t even have a family. The poor guy’s an orphan. Have a heart, for Heaven’s sake.”

  “He probably doesn’t have any family because he bored them all to death...and the same could happen to you right in this very restaurant. I can see the headlines now. ‘Forty Something Woman Found Face Down in her Cajun Pasta. Man Being Held on Suspicion of Sucking the Life out of Unsuspecting Date.’”

  “Must you be so negative?”

  “Look across the table; now THAT’S negative.”

  “Go away.”

  “I’ll be here when you’re ready to leave.”

  Adonis watched the television set for the next half hour like the boys in my childhood neighborhood watched bugs under their microscope in the hot New Mexican sun. Nothing else existed. All the while I could hear the Karaoke starting on the other side of the restaurant with a patron belting out a halfway decent version of The Other Side of the Moon...which I was starting to think would have been a far more interesting place than this table with this gorgeous man. Although I have to admit that the longer the date dragged on the less good looking he appeared.

  Until at last the silence was broken.

  “Now, you see the guy that just stole the base?” Adonis asked. “He is a genuine piece of crap and I have no idea why they keep that man on the team. He should have been fired years ago!”

  “Oh,” I said. “What makes him so bad?”

  “Well I’ll start at the beginning of his career...” he said.

  “NO!” cried Shallow Lucy. “Please, NO! Take me home!”

  Adonis started on a 45-minute, nonstop rant that covered the poor man’s less than stellar life in baseball from the minor leagues to the most current game.

  When he finally finished listing every mistake the guy had made he pointed to another player and started listing all of the reasons he should not even be allowed in a baseball stadium.

  Pretty soon he just sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher, wah, wah, wah, wah, wah, as he droned on endlessly with statistics and ancient scores and reasons each of his targeted players should not be playing professional ball.

  “I’m going to go to the powder room,” I said interrupting yet another rant, this time about a man who was limping off the field after twisting his ankle while catching a fly ball.

  Adonis blinked and looked at me as though it was the first time he had seen me, so caught up in his world of baseball that he had no clue that I still sat at the table with him, though he continued to drone on endlessly. I wondered if he thought he was at home with his guy friends drinking beer and watching the game. And then I wondered if, still caught up in this fantasy, he would eventually ask me to pull his finger and laugh hysterically as he filled the room with toxic gas.

  I grabbed my purse and headed to the ladies room. I stopped at the bar and handed Matt enough money to cover the tab.

  “You’ve finally come to your senses,” Shallow Lucy said. “I’m so proud of you! I’ve been thinking about how to exit this date gracefully…”

  “I don’t need your help with an escape plan. I’ve had the last two hours to plan it out on my own. It’s perfect. I won’t have to explain anything to Adonis. I’m just going to sneak out the basement bathroom window and be on my way.”

  “You can’t do that,” Shallow Lucy shouted at me. “That’s just plain rude! Why don’t you just tell him it’s getting late and walk out the front door? At least you’d be ditching him in an honest way. Use the direct approach. You know that’s the best way.”

  “Direct? Honest? How’s this...‘Look, you are a very handsome man. But you are the most boring, blabbering boob I have ever encountered. And if I stay here any longer I’m afraid that I will actually die of boredom. Dead. Gone. No longer living. The ambulance will come and the autopsy will show that my brain actually turned to a pile of ash, snuffing out my life for good. I just cannot take that risk and I must leave now.’ What do you think? Will that be effective enough? Honest enough?”

  “You know you could put it in nicer terms than that! Just tell the guy that baseball’s not your cup of tea, tell him you hope he enjoys the rest of the game, and be on your way home. Besides you have leftover pasta at the table. If you sneak out, you’ll have to leave that behind.”

  This gave me pause and I considered her suggestion for a couple of minutes. I even took a few steps back in Adonis’ direction. When I turned the corner though, I saw that he was pounding his fists on the table and shouting at the “dumb ass pitcher” for “throwing the game on purpose.” Even one more meal of Cajun pasta wasn’t worth returning to that table.

  I went into the bathroom and surveyed my escape route. I wondered if the window would be a tight fit but decided to do it anyway. With a good deal of effort I cranked the old window handle. I looked around the hallway and found a large, plastic storage box and placed it under the window. I was just about to step up on the box when Shallow Lucy piped in again.

  “No offense,” Shallow Lucy said. “But your butt will not fit through that tiny opening.”

  “Are you calling me fat?”

  “Just pointing out the obvious.”

  “Thanks for your help, but I’ll be fine.”

&nb
sp; “You know you’re going to end up looking like Winnie the Pooh when he gets stuck in Rabbit’s hole because he ate too much honey. And then, just like Pooh, we’re going to have to wait until that pasta starts to come off of your hips. It could be days or even weeks. There’s really no telling. I mean you did eat a LOT of pasta. Good thing you didn’t eat dessert. That could take months.”

  “Thanks for the doomsday report. I’ll see you at home.”

  With this I stepped up onto the box and began to pull myself through the basement window. I could see the river flowing by and the path that followed it which would be the first part of my escape route. I could smell the river and the exhaust from the cars that were passing by...and freedom.

  I stopped short as I realized there was person blocking my path to freedom. I looked up and saw a face peering down at me, blocking out the sun. As I tried to extricate my rear end from the rather small opening I realized, much to my surprise, that Shallow Lucy had been perfectly right. My butt could not fit through the window. Shallow Lucy gave a good, hearty belly laugh as I realized the person blocking my way was one of Eaton Rapids’ finest, a policeman.

  “Oh, if only someone could have warned you,” Shallow Lucy said, sarcasm dripping like Adonis’ untouched ice cream.

  “Are you a bit stuck?” the policeman asked.

  I looked up and realized it was my neighbor, Mike. A policeman who had lived across the street from me for many years.

  “That’s very funny, Mike,” I said. “Can you give me a hand?”

  “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were playing dine and dash. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve hauled someone in while they were trying to climb out this very window. I keep telling the owner to seal this baby up to keep your type in.”

  “That’s very funny,” I said. “Just help me out, will you please?”

  “Not until I can verify that you’ve paid your tab. It wouldn’t be fair if I gave you preferential treatment just because you’re my neighbor, now would it?”

  “That’s great. Check on my tab as soon as you get me out of here. Matt will verify that I paid.”

  “No,” Mike said. “You wait right there while I do some investigative work.”

  “Seriously, Mike,” I said. “This actually hurts. Just help me out.”

  “Tell me,” he said, rubbing his chin and clearly enjoying this. “What, or who, is it that you’re trying to escape?”

  “Another bad date, if you must know...A hand please.”

  “No offense,” he said. “But your butt’s a bit large for this opening. I’m afraid you’ll have to find another escape route.”

  “I hate to tell you I told you so,” Shallow Lucy said, “but...”

  “Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I said, now humiliated beyond belief.

  I started to back down but the flimsy plastic storage box collapsed under my weight and I fell to the floor, breaking the heel of my strappy little new shoe right in half, painfully twisting my ankle, and smacking my right eyebrow on the concrete wall for good measure. I sat on the bathroom floor feeling my face begin to swell and indulging in my own little pity party, the broken shoe in one hand and the swollen ankle in the other. The door opened and Mike came into the bathroom.

  “I talked to Matt and he verified that you paid your tab,” Mike said. “He wanted to know why you didn’t just use the front door.”

  Mike held out a hand and helped me to my feet.

  “Come here, and I’ll show you why I was looking for an escape route,” I said.

  We walked to the bathroom door and cracked it open. I pointed to Adonis.

  “That’s the reason I didn’t use the front door,” I said.

  We watched Adonis as he stared at the television set looking like an audience member at a group hypnotherapy session. I thought I actually saw a bit of dribble at the corner of his mouth and wondered if he knew it was there.

  “A bit focused on the game, huh?” Mike said.

  “A bit.”

  “If the date wasn’t going well, you should have just been honest with him,” Mike said.

  “You’re not the first one to suggest that,” I said. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the look of rejection on his face when I left.”

  We watched as Adonis slammed his fist on the table as his team clearly was not playing up to this man’s expectations. I wondered if he even knew I had left the table.

  “Do you need a ride home?” Mike asked, noting that I was holding my heels.

  “That would be great,” I said. “Give me just a minute and I’ll explain what’s going on to my date.”

  “Why?” shouted Shallow Lucy. “Why not dump him right here, right now and get a ride home? WHY do you feel the need to explain to this loser that the date didn’t go well? WHAT are you thinking, Lucy?”

  I limped to the table leaning on Mike in his police uniform, broken shoe in hand, ready to come clean and just tell the damned truth. So focused on the game was Adonis that I actually had to touch his shoulder to lure his attention away from the television screen.

  Adonis looked at me; my eye nearly swollen shut now, my favorite new shoe snapped like my pride, a cop supporting me for good measure.

  “What the hell did you do?” Adonis asked. “Try to rob the place? I swear to God, officer, I am not her accomplice. I had no idea she was going to rob the place when we came in. I was just enjoying the ball game. I had no idea she was a criminal.”

  “Why would you assume something like that?” I asked, dumbfounded that this would be the first thing to enter his mind. “Why do you automatically think the worst of me...and every subject you talk about for that matter? Did it not even occur to you that there might be a perfectly good explanation that did not include a completely negative scenario? Perhaps I was helping a little old lady across the street, pushed her out of the way of an oncoming car, and sacrificed my own stiletto for the sake of her life. Can your mind not see anything positive through the murk of negativity with which you’ve coated your entire outlook? Must everything in your unhappy, plain vanilla ice cream, baseball obsessed world end badly?”

  “Honestly, then, what did happen to you?” Adonis as he folded his arms with a smug look on his face.

  “I’ll tell you exactly what happened,” I fumed. “After sitting here and listening to your endless baseball bullsh....”

  “Excuse me, Lucy,” Mike intervened. “Do you mind if I explain to this gentleman what really happened?”

  “I’m on a roll, Mike, can this wait?”

  “No,” he said. “I think he needs to understand what kind of a person you really are.”

  “Yeah,” Adonis said, “I’d like to hear it from the cop’s mouth. Just exactly what did happen?”

  “You know that little old lady she just mentioned? Well, thanks to this brave woman, that sweet grandmother will live to attend her great granddaughter’s fifth birthday party tomorrow afternoon. A drunk driver nearly ran her down. I’m pretty sure she’d have been killed if Lucy hadn’t been there to get her out of harm’s way just in the nick of time. Does that about cover it, Lucy?”

  “Uh, yeah. I guess that about wraps it up,” I answered.

  “So, you didn’t rob the place?” Adonis asked, still looking skeptical.

  “I most certainly did not,” I said. “And shame on you for even thinking that. Come on, Mike, I could use that ride home now.”

  “He doesn’t need to give you a ride home,” Adonis offered. “If you can wait until the game’s over I can give you a lift.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think so.” I said. “I’ll just be on my way.”

  As I hobbled out of the restaurant Adonis flagged Matt down, ordered a beer, and continued to stare at the muted television set.

  Mike dropped me off at home where I donned my Spiderman pajamas and baked a batch of extra chewy turtle brownies with double ho
t fudge drizzle. I sat down in the living room, propped my foot up on the coffee table, put an ice pack on my left ankle and right eye, and watched Casa Blanca while I ate the warm brownies from the pan with a spoon.

  I heard the front door open downstairs and hollered for Jessie to grab a spoon and a glass of milk and come up and join the pity party.

  “Another bad date?” she shouted up the stairs. “I smell brownies.”

  “They’re turtle brownies with extra hot fudge,” I said.

  “Extra hot fudge? Ooh, must have been really bad,” she said.

  She came into the living room and looked from me to the ice packs and then to Humphrey Bogart and back at the brownies. I paused the movie and told her about the date and all of the humiliating details.

  “Do you need an aspirin?” she asked.

  “Thanks but I already took a couple.”

  And then in the best imitation I’ve ever seen of myself in my most serious mom pose, she crossed her arms and said, “And what did we learn from this tragic event, my dear?”

  “Just be honest next time and call a loser a loser?”

  “And what else?”

  “Don’t sneak out the bathroom window at Darb’s because it’s smaller than my butt?”

  “I think you missed the most obvious point,” she said. “If you’re going to be a coward and just ditch a guy, don’t get caught!”

  Truly words of wisdom spoken from the heart. I’m so proud to be her mother.

  “Now slide the brownies over so I can help you wallow,” she said.

  After a life-sucking date, I rebound with extra chewy turtle brownies with double hot fudge. If this doesn’t breathe life back into you, nothing will.

  Life-Saving Extra Chewy Turtle Brownies with Hot Fudge

  2 boxes brownie mix for 9" x 13" pan

  1 cup oil

  1/4 cup water

  4 eggs

  1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

  1 cup butterscotch chips

  1 cup coarsely chopped pecans

  Mix all ingredients. Put in 9" x 13" pan greased on bottom only. Bake for 45 minutes at 325 degrees in a glass pan (or 300 degrees for dark/nonstick pan).

  Turtle Topping

  14-ounce bag wrapped caramels

  3 tablespoons whipping cream

  3/4 cup coarsely chopped pecans

  In large microwavable bowl, microwave caramels and whipping cream uncovered on High 2 to 3 minutes, stirring occasionally, until smooth. Stir in caramel and pour caramel over brownies.

  The Final Touch

  12.8-ounce jar Hershey’s hot fudge topping. (The worse the date, the more you’ll want to drizzle over the turtle topping.)

  ****