An original work of fiction
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
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
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.
"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."
"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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