“The
next time a guy wants to date you, you should bring him here. If he can’t navigate this menu, it’s a clear
sign he’s not right for you.”
“Excuse
me? The next time a guy wants to date
me, he’ll be the one bringing me here, not the other way around.
Cuz those days are long gone.”
“You
know what I meant; this cheese page is a good test to see whether or not
someone can keep up with you food-wise.
And I know that’s important to you.”
He’s
right, as he usually is. Hence the reason
I call him my Spirit Guide. I can’t
quite manage to bite back my retort, but I quietly mutter it under my breath. We are
in our fancy goin’-out clothes, after all—I have to at least try show a little
class—because despite what you’ve heard, this knife-wielding tomboy cleans up
pretty well and rocks a maxi dress like it’s nobody’s business.
Sam
ignores my comment although he hears every syllable, says instead, “If I’m not
mistaken, I am a boy and you are a girl, and aren’t you taking me out at this
very moment, or did I read your email wrong?”
“This
is different. We’re friends. And it’s your
birthday.” His forty-first birthday, to
be exact, though you’d never know it to look at him.
