Expect the Unexpected- Chapter 3

Chapter 3 of "Exit, Stage Left"

I decided after picking up Danny that I would take him to see "Wreck-It-Ralph" at the cinema. We already picked up the playbills at the printer, and stopped for tacos at Rock-a-Taco, in the city centre. The timing was right, and Danny was being very good. He's a precocious little guy, with a blonde buzz cut, glasses and an adorable nose. I decided when I met him over a year ago, that I was going to be his favourite adult. I had competition, though. Hannah's sister, Hailey, seemed to have a lock on the top spot. "Aunt Hailey took me to a Dude Ranch!" Danny tells anyone who's taking him anywhere. I try to rationalise it in my head, to keep my competitive side from showing, but I often find myself thinking, "Well, that was in Montana, kid, we're in White Hill now! We have malls, we have sports arenas, we have theme parks and we've got theatre!" But I know the great outdoors, cowboys and bon fires are going to be tough to beat.

I thought for sure Pirate Cove mini-golf this past summer would bump Aunt Hailey's dude ranch adventure off the chart, but apparently, horses are a big deal and have left quite a lasting impression on the kid. In the meantime, I think the thing that works in my favour is that I talk to him like he's one of my friends. I'm not a lecturer, I'm not a disciplinarian, or a parent. I'm basically his grown up friend. I joke with him, I answer him honestly yet tread lightly when it comes to the big three topics with major boundaries: sex, gay stuff, and anything about his mother & Billy. I know that he knows I date girls, and the wonderful thing is, it doesn't phase him. A credit to Hannah and Billy, for not making a big deal out of it so Danny seems to take it in stride. It's pretty much a non-issue. Once he asked me why I like girls more than boys and I answered by saying, "I don't know if I like girls MORE than boys, but I like them BETTER because I have more in common." I may have confused him, but I waited for his response, thinking he may come back with "I'd like to re-phrase the question," because that's the type of kid he is, but he seemed to accept my answer and perhaps ended up trying to figure out where he went wrong with the question itself. 

Against my better judgement, Danny and I were sharing a massive bucket of popcorn and a tank of Coke Zero, when I had to pee. I knew this would happen. I thought for sure it would be him before me, but this kid is like a shop vac. I started the dialog in my head. What should I do? I can't leave him here, alone in the seat. I'm going to have to bring him to the ladies' room with me. Is this normal? Is this creepy? What have I done before? Well, let's think. Ok, this is a first. It's never happened before. I've only had him overnight one other time, and we stayed in, made Tollhouse cookies, and talked about how ants are probably the most amazing things to watch. In the middle of my inner dialog, a woman about four rows back began a coughing spree. Not the usual, like when you have a cold, it was one of those dry, hacks, like when you swallow a Dorito the wrong way and it gets stuck in your throat for a second, or when you accidentally breathe in after chewing up a cracker. This was going on for a good while. I had to look back, out of curiosity, to see if anyone else was noticing. Nope. In fact, the woman next to her wasn't even paying attention. She hadn't taken her eyes off the screen. Kind of odd. It was a cartoon, for God sake. The hacking continued. It dawned on me, though, I finally recognised exactly what was happening. It's that hack you do when you get a popcorn hull suctioned to the side of your throat or on the way back of your tongue and it irritates the s**t out of you.

I decided this would be a good time to take a bathroom break, since people were starting to get a bit fussy over popcorn-choker lady. I tapped Danny on the arm. "Come with me. I have to use the ladies room." Without even a question, Danny got up and took my hand. We started up the aisle, passed the uncomfortable popcorn choker lady, who was now just sporadically trying to drink soda, growl, hack, even stick her finger in her mouth at one point. So awful. I knew the feeling well. Thankfully, it's only happened to me at home, but it is completely annoying until that tiny little brown shell is GONE. As we passed her, she gave us a weak smile from her aisle seat. She was pretty. I felt bad for her. She was trying to be as cool as she could about it. She was slowly bringing her finger back up to her mouth, I guess to see if she could reach it that way again. As we got about a foot from the double doors that lead to the lobby, I heard a wretch and a splatter. I turned around to see a small puddle of nacho & popcorn vomit in the aisle, causing Danny to instinctively shout "Eeew!" The poor popcorn choker had puked.

I hurried him to the ladies room. He stops at the door. 

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Oh, I have go to go IN with you?" he says, looking up at me blinking. Sometimes, he reminds me of the kid in that "Jerry McGuire" movie, but without the lisp, and with cornier glasses, if that's possible.

"Well, yeah, you can't wait out here in the lobby, alone." I hold the door open. He sighs a big, dramatic sigh and makes his way past me. Fortunately, it's empty. 

"Listen, I'm going right in here," I say, pointing to the second stall, "and I want to see your feet the entire time I'm in here, so you stand in front of the door and don't move. Okay?"

Danny pushes up his glasses, shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and nods. I step in and close the door.  His feet poke under the door. Toes in. Not what I expected. But, okay.

"You like the movie?" I ask him, while going through the public restroom routine: lining the bowl, hovering over it, carefully. 

"I guess so. I like 'Despicable Me' better, because it was funnier."

"Oh...well, okay then," I say, thinking, there goes my shot at beating Aunt Hailey. Again.

Just as I'm finishing up, I hear the door open and footsteps. The sink water immediately comes on. I hear rummaging. I watch Danny's feet. He turns around but in front of the stall door. I'm zipping and buckling my belt when Danny tries to whisper over the noise of sink water, making it not really a whisper. "It's the lady that threw up." I flush as fast as I can get my foot up to the handle. I pray she didn't hear him between the toilet flush & the water rushing out of the faucet. "Okay, Danny, shhh," I say, in my firm voice, as I try to hurry, so I can get out there before he says something else. 

I open the stall door. Danny takes a step away and looks at the lady, then at me, as if I didn't believe him when he "whispered" it a second ago. I step past him. 

The woman had brushed her teeth, and was now drying her toothbrush on a paper towel. She looks up at me and then back down again, sort of sheepishly as I walk up to a sink in the row of three. I wasn't sure what to say. I mean, well, it wasn't really a LOT of puke. I don't think that would make her feel any better to hear that, though. 

"You all right?" I ask. She tries to smile, but I can see the embarrassment in her eyes. 

"Yes, thanks. I had a piece of popcorn.. kind of ...stuck...." her voice trails off. Her eyes have welled up with tears, but she's being quite brave. No tears spilling over.

"I hate it when that happens!" I say, trying to make her feel better. She fumbles around, in her big oversized purse that's on the counter top, dropping the toothbrush wrapped in the paper towel into it. She smiles warmly, as though she knows exactly what I'm doing, but it isn't helping. She throws the mangled tube of travel sized toothpaste in her bag, and pulls another towel out of the dispenser, dabbing at the corners of her mouth. 

"What a great first date I am." She sniffs back a tear. 

Oh, jeez! What do I say now? "Well, it could be worse, really."

She tries to smile again. "Could it?"

"Sure. You didn't slip and fall in your own vomit, did you?"

She finally laughs. "No. Maybe my date would have noticed THAT, though. She's been mesmerised since we got here." She crumples the paper towel and dabs at her eyes, gently. 

She? Did she just...? She said 'She'. Crystal clear. I heard it.

She sighs, as she reaches for her giant purse. She stops for second, looking at it.

"Look at that," she says, pointing to the toothpaste in her bag, "I had high hopes for tonight, right? Crazy." She tries to laugh again. She looks in the mirror to check her eye make up. A sadness falls over her expression. She takes out a mascara & lip gloss and notices Danny now standing by the door. I dry my hands. She touches up her lashes. She looks down for a second, then back in the mirror, at me. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking like this in front of your son." 

"Oh, he's not my son." I don't think I could have said that any quicker.

"We're friends," Danny states. 

"Yes, yes we are. I'm doing a favour for his Mom.''

"Well, I hope I didn't ruin your evening." She looks at me, in the mirror again, though I'm behind her.  I'm hoping she didn't see me checking out her a*s. She has curves in all the right places. What is wrong with me? She's all vulnerable, yacking up nachos on a first date, and I'm looking at her a*s? God, Dina. Get some help 

"Did you throw up Skittles? I thought I saw some yellow and gr-- " Danny blabs, but I quickly cover his mouth with my hand before he can name the colors of the rainbow. He pushes my hand until I feel it's safe to pull it away and he gives me his "meanie" eyes. 

"No, not ruined at all. We're heading back in now. You coming?" I hold the door open, and usher Danny out by the hand, uncomfortably, like when you have a dog on a leash and have to keep switching hands because it's all over the place. 

"Oh, thanks, but I think I'm going to go. I doubt my date will even notice. I'm too embarrassed to go back in there. And no, those were nachos, Buddy." She tosses her mascara & lip gloss into the black hole of her bag, and pulls the strap over her broad shoulder. I'm not sure what to say, but I almost wanted to ask her to come back in and sit with us.  

Her thick dark, auburn scrunched-toussled hair looks ridiculously good, for a woman who just launched a plate of regurgitated nachos down the aisle of a movie theatre. She's dressed in the perfect first date attire- dark jeans, a purple thin knit v-neck sweater, showing a slight amount of cleavage. Not too dressy, not too shabby. I even caught the lacy black bra that peeked out delicately when she leaned forward. If I had to guess, I'd say she was a bit older than me, maybe late 40's, but very well put together. Taller than me. Could be her sleek, black boots with a bit of a heel. She didn't look like a typical lesbian. Oh, that sounds bad. I mean, I wouldn't have guessed in a million years had I passed her in a grocery store or something. She did say "she" about her date, right?  Yes. She did. Her make up was, once again, flawless after the mini-touch up. She had big full lips, and super straight white teeth that I noticed the minute she finally smiled. Like a magician, she pulls a long, trendy purple, black and grey scarf out of her tote and wraps it around her neck, looping it fashionably. She smoothes out her sweater, takes a deep breath and heads out past me. I can smell the minty toothpaste as she passes. I couldn't help but wonder what her story was. I have a bad habit of trying to guess people's stories, especially when I've never seen them before. I could seriously spend a better part of my day in a coffee shop watching strangers and making up the best stories. Was she new here? She doesn't look like a New Yorker. I know that sounds derogatory in some way, but I mean, she looks more like a...wine country woman. She had a smooth glow about her. Like she was used to frequent sunshine. Maybe Napa Valley, or Big Sur or something like that. 

"Hey, are you really leaving?" I ask, as we get out into the lobby. She turns back. 

She makes a funny frown that's cute because it's sad, but her eyes are twinkling. "Yeah," she says with a shrug, "I'm okay with it."

"Well...if I was your date, just so you know," (I pause..for effect) "...I would totally notice that you left."

I wanted it to hang in the air for a second, but that wasn't happening.

"Dina, come on! We're missing the rest of the movie!" Danny tugs on my hand. 

"That's really nice of you to say and I appreciate it. But, I think I can safely assume that even without my gagging and vomiting act, that date was over before it started."

Danny lets go of my hand to wipe his on his little jeans, then grips mine again, listening, yet impatient, as I stand there face to face with her. 

"Thank you," she smiles again, "You're very kind to not to be grossed out." I wanted to tell her that I was married to a man before I so I know gross and that..well..that was nothing!

Something was happening for me right here. I wanted to talk to this woman more. 

What could I say to let her know I wanted to see her again and that I'm a lesbian, too, without sounding like an eager beaver? This was tricky. I didn't want to scare her off by being blatant or aggressive. I mean, she did just have the worst date ever. Jesus, at a lesbian bar, it's just a given. It's so easy and basically unspoken. A few drinks and some conversation, and you pretty much know whether you're going home with the woman across from you. All you have to say is "You wanna get out of here?" This...this was requiring a little thought. I need to think of something subtle, yet cool. Something that would give off an unmistakeable lesbian vibe without being the least bit forward or trashy. Or arrogant. 

"Dina likes girls, too," Danny says, swinging my hand, looking at movie posters, completely unaware that he just smashed my vibe. Both of us freeze with a bit of a jolt.

Her eyes get as wide as mine. I think I'm actually holding my breath. She slowly breaks into a smile. "Does she?" she asks Danny, directly.

"Yep. And you're pretty. Dina's pretty. You two should go on a date," he says in a very matter of fact way. She laughs this great laugh that I instantly want to hear again. My mouth is hanging open, but I know I'm smiling a bit. I'm not sure if it's because she is, too, or because the kid just simplified things in one fell swoop as quickly as I should have, being the grown up.

"I..uh...wow. Hmm. Didn't see that coming. I..um..I'm Dina. Did I mention that? Because I feel like time just stopped. Oh, and this is Danny. My pimp." 

She laughs again. There it is. I feel myself relax. Ah. Much better. 

"Nice to meet you, Dina. I'm Liz. And Danny," she says, leaning down to touch his hair, "I must say, I like your style. You're direct and you've got great taste, because you're right, your friend Dina IS pretty."  He nods, and looks up at me, still totally unaware of the awkwardness and relief he just caused. "Can we go back in now?" I nod slowly, looking at her as the burn hits my cheeks. Is this...? Are we...? Is there some flirting happening? There is some deliberate eye contact here. No mistaking that. I go for it.

"Listen, Liz, I would love to meet up again, under completely different circumstances, some place where we could get a dinner, or a drink, and I wouldn't have this little monkey pimp attached to my hand," I say, holding up Danny's hand. She flashes that smile again, and reaches into a pocket on her bag. "Yeah, me too. I'd like that. Some place I haven't left a trail of barf and tears. Wow, what an awful first impression. Are you sure you want to do this?" She has the business card in her hand now.  "Yeah. Yes! We'll go some place that doesn't serve popcorn or nachos. I promise."  She grins. "Well, here's my card."

"Oh, cool." I pat my pockets, "I didn't think to bring one. I'm not supposed to be working tonight but my pimp calls the shots, apparently." 

"Should I give this to him? Does he arrange all your dates?" 

I go to take the card from her, "Are you kidding me? He's so fired."  She holds on to the card tighter.

"He is?"

"Oh no! I mean ..for embarrassing me...not for...this." I say, looking at the card that both our fingers are touching.

"I think I've safely cornered the market on embarrassment tonight," she says, letting go of the card for me, smiling as she turns to leave. 

Danny yanks on my hand, "Come on!"

Normally, I would replay the series of events in my head to be sure what just happened really happened, but not this time. As I walk towards the double doors leading back into the movie, all I can think is, "I've got a date with the pretty popcorn choker lady."

 

 

Author's Note

Chapter 3 of "Exit, Stage Left"