I live tweeted some of the events to what I suspect will become a Twitter series and The Euphemistic Minister blog things. Take into consideration I had a lovely friend who shouldn't have been neglected in favor of eavesdropping. There are lapses in the story because I don't know the whole story. This is because the story is wrought from creeping.
In the future I hope this grows into something I could recruit comic drawers, flash artists, and other folk from my community to collaborate on. However, I don't want to go into details because once I put it to word I feel like an asshole for not following through. I'm the sort that tries to keep her word.
Enjoy the first rough draft of installation One #RelationshipCreeper!
Mia
"Dessert things or dinner
things?"
I was intrigued by this couple
because they appeared well matched. Both
young, Asian, and with enough vitality to sport cat eye makeup and that socal
college dude haircut respectively. After
just catching random bits of their conversation early on, the dissonance was
apparent.
It didn't start smoothly. Onset conversation revealed that he had
invited her to the Cheesecake Factory because he believed it was a special
restaurant. It's later confirmed that
tonight was their first date. Her words,
"First and last date." The
choice in restaurant and her displeasure was quite the show of force for a
first date meal thing.
Unfortunately he misstepped by
admonishing that he had eaten already at work before their rendezvous. Her claws are unsheathed at this point. She interrogates him on his thought process
of picking such a restaurant for them.
Pissed that she might be the only one eating, she grills with the
pattern of "Why did you...We could have..."
Let's pretend their server found an
opening to get their drink order. Thereafter
their bubble of greasy silence grows.
The Cheesecake Factory is fucking noisy.
There are absolutely no TVs in this joint to dissuade the patrons from
passive-actively ignoring each other in favor of HD stimuli. You actually hear people's voices in this
restaurant and not the echoed droning of whatever sport.
And yet. Their bubble grew and stretched until it was
lanced by her angst. She remarks that
they could have just gotten fast food.
"This place [Fashion Valley]
doesn't even have KFC...or Taco Bell. We
could have just had KFC."
She certainly wasn't expecting a
dessert thing or dinner thing sort of date.
And further, she isn't at all amused that he ate dinner at work because,
"why come here if you ate already?"
I lost track of things here because
a cell phone was launched to the floor at the foot of my dinnermate. We returned the phone to its owner.
And this is where we break because
something was happening at the phone launcher's table.
(Intermission)
This couple started their The
Cheesecake Factory experience by having their server check the balance on their The Cheesecake
Factory gift card. The man in white
returned confessing that the card wasn't reading in their machine, but he could
get a manager on it to check the card in the system in the back against the
official The Cheesecake Factory intelligence grid.
It sounded very promising. Over the Hill Ken, the man half of the couple
beside us, was clearly pissed.
He and his wife with the feathered
blond bob fell into a heated and semi-whispered conversation turn debate turn
whisper shout off.
I'd like to pretend that it was
over soap opera-esque domestic tensions.
Maybe they're in a crisis over an empty nest. Perhaps they were facing the music of being
the only two meat sacks in a once burgeoning household.
It was really over calming Ken down
after the gift card conundrum. He was
that pissed.
They weren't in focus for much of
my relationship creeping, so their shouted whispers and heated argument wasn't
too decipherable. I know it escalated to
the point that feathered bob refused to make eye contact with old Ken. Her eyes were glued to her phone where she
was fervently texting. Their chatter was
very aggressive white noise compared to the clarity of the Asian couple on the
other side.
Old Ken's angry tone was hot gravel
under your feet after soaking ocean too long.
It seethed and left impressions that made it hard to carry on. She reacted with a violent gesticulation that
launched her Samsung Note Mini to the floor.
I didn't consciously confirm that
they were fighting until after the phone was returned.
I think she started crying at a
point because when I looked over a ways into my complimentary bread, he pulled
her close and her face was wrenched from the heartstrings.
Her mouth and face creases were
pulled in a way that make your mirror neurons ache around your heart. At this point I looked away. I didn't want my empathy to color my meal sad even though it made my gravy taste a little blander. I felt badly for the woman. She had ordered the shrimp scampi. I didn't feel bad because of her order. It's just that I remember is how horrible
it is to eat while you're crying.
Sadness bleaches the vibrancy of flavor.
To be continued...
