Him: What are you making?
Me: Mango Cherry Pies.
Him: No kidding.
Me: That’s right. They’re going to be yummy. And YOU’RE going to get some.
Him: Yay. I don’t like pastries, though.
Me: Just pretend you’re excited?
Him: Im so excited.
Me: Wasn’t that guy a jerk? At the bar?
Him: What was he saying? Sometimes I just smile at people and tune out.
Me: He was making stupid ching-chong jokes.
Him: Oh, no! What was he saying?
Me: He said he’d see you soon because he was going to Ruby Foo’s tomorrow for lunch. I should have said that you’d probably see him twice, since it looks like he eats lunch twice every day.
Him: That’s funny.
Me: I try not to make fat jokes. They strike me as dated, somehow.
Him: Wait, he’s assuming I work at Ruby Foo’s, because I’m Asian? That’s insulting.
Me: He thinks it was funny.
Him: Doesn’t sound funny to me.
Me: Me either. He’s pretty funny, when he’s not hammered. I have to see him all the time. He’s a nice guy, but he has these… moments… He thinks he’s being funny. People are ass wipes when they’re drunk.
Him: That’s what he was doing? He was making Asian jokes?
Me: Yeah. He said that I was only hanging out with you to make my penis look bigger.
Him: Oh no! Is that true?
Me: Only partially. I like you a lot too.
Me: NO IT’S NOT TRUE. You’re super good looking, kid. That guy’s a jealous bozo. Your penis is perfect.
How much of the conversation did you miss? Wow you were really zoned out. Did you catch what happened at the end, when I grabbed your shoulder?
Him: Oh! When you said ‘Go ahead – make three more obnoxious jokes, but make them good,’ or whatever?
Me: ‘Make them the best jokes ever! Really enjoy yourself!’ Yeah. I wanted to see him squirm. There’s a part of him that knows that he’s being ugly, when he does that. He was wasted. I also wanted him to see that he hadn’t phased me in the least.
Him: Fuck him. I would have slapped him.
Me: Well I’m glad you didn’t hear it, then. We run in the same circles. I have to deal with him. He was wasted. The very last thing he did was drop a shot all over the ground. He has his moments. He can be nice. Why am I defending him?
Him: Yeah. I don’t usually let people get to me, but there was this guy who said my friend had a cheap bag tonight. I wouldn’t let him off the hook for it. OH NO.
Him: Then there was that homeless man.
Me: I know. Right afterward. That was bad timing.
Him: I’m just realizing. He meant me, too. He gave you all those compliments and then said you needed to upgrade the man though.
Me: I found that really strange.
Him: That’s why you told him to can it and knock it off. It’s just dawning on me. He meant me.
Me: Yeah. Why did you think I was yelling at a homeless man? Oh man. You really were in and out of the evening huh?
Him: I guess so.
Me: Oh. You’re wasted, aren’t you? You drank a lot before you came to meet me at the bar.
Him: I had my share of drinks.
Me: You’re clobbered.
Him: I’m not.
Me: Doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful and sweet. You have self respect and you’re kind to other people. Let’s just make these pies. Mango and cherry have a way of baking together to taste like Peach.
Him: Thanks. You’re okay.
Me: Thanks. So are you.
Also. You’re wasted.
(pause, then a big smile.)