Couple's Dinner

After Lady Gaga, and getting to sleep in, Work Guy and I went to our breakfast place.

I always pay, because he pays for pretty much everything else we do. It was a beautiful morning, warm but with a cool breeze. We ate, talked little, then went back home to nap. It was so comforting. I enjoy him, just being around him.

So the next day at work he emailed and asked if I wanted to go for a fish fry at his best friend's house. As I do love some fried fish I said yes. Just me and Work Guy and his best friend and wife. It didn't dawn on me right away that this was becoming a habit. I suppose that is what couples do and all, I have just always feared actually becoming one.

Work Guy started planning our week. I told him that Friday night I was going out with Kelly and Ange, so he decided we would have a sleepover Thursday night then do the fish thing Saturday.

It was only Tuesday! My week suddenly was gone due to all this planning and I started to freak out. Thursday sleepover, Friday friends, Saturday couple dinner, Sunday Clean offices and BAM! I'm back to work on Monday. It was only Tuesday for Christ's sake! My response was no to Thursday. I have other things I want to do. I don't know what they are yet, but I don't want to miss out on them because I suddenly got shifted into a pattern of which I seem to have no control.

He laughed at me. Tried to get me to see how little we see each other, and let him stay over Thursday. I wasn't having it. He ended up coming over anyway. We went to Barnes & Noble to get a book I needed to read for work, he gave advice as to how I should approach the boss man for a promotion... I felt like I was being taught.

At the bookstore, however, he got to see my true colors. While he was off trying to find me a business book on culture, that I wanted to read about as much as I want to get a colonoscopy, I found 3 books I couldn't bare to part with. They sang to me, and smelled so good.

I began to panic, like I usually do at any bookstore, that my life will end too soon and I will have missed out on reading every book there is to read. Imagine! Dying before you had experienced every story there was! Never getting to meet those people trap in ink on a page requiring you to make them come to life!

He made me put the books back. I glared. I wanted to kick him and throw myself down on the floor like a three year old begging for a toy. Work Guy promised that if I bought none of the books here (he said I could get them cheaper online, like I didn't know that) he would buy me the one I need and one of the others I was clutching to my chest in a death grip.

I paced back and forth. I am poor. No money to spend on utilities let alone books.... Ok. Begrudgingly I handed over my stack. It was painful. They turned to dust before my eyes and I wanted to take a shower. Those poor books, had just been given the hope of a home to have it torn away.

We went to another store. I was relegated to the car.

After some pizza I felt more myself and stopped planning bizarre torture for Work Guy. Then I showed him the door. I was done for the night and he could go home now. I think he was slightly surprised that I made him go. I mean, he was already there, had packed a change of clothes "just in case" and it was after 9pm. I didn't care. I had told him no sleepover and I was holding on to any type of control I could manage.

Saturday rolled around and I really didn't want to leave my house. It needs to be cleaned, but all of these activities with Work Guy have made me lazy. I met up with him and we headed to the married friends home. Cutter was ecstatic. He drooled all over the back of the car, which made me smile because I know Work Guy hates that. He will never truly appreciate good drool from a happy doggie.

The couple were nice, I've met them twice before. We sat around and talked, shared memories from the two guys growing up. Cutter peed nine hundred thousand times to tell everyone who really owned the yard. Then he shit 3 more times to drive the point home. It was a lovely evening.

At one point, Work Guy and his buddy left for Starbucks to get the newly pregnant lady a tea. I helped her clean the kitchen, then we watched TV. I was a little uncomfortable. She's nice, but when did I lose my ability to talk to people about stuff? Once they came back we sat on the couch and watched TV. I wanted to go home. I can do this at home. Better yet, I could be reading my new book on the patio at home and not have to inject a sentence into the small talk every 30 minutes.

Around 10 I thought we would be leaving. We took the dogs outside to play, his friend trying to get them to share a rope bone, but Cutter set him straight on the whole idea of sharing. We sat around and drank some more, chatted. I got to hear about their other friends and experiences.

Why wasn't I talking more? Why was I so preoccupied with going home? I went inside to grab a cigarette and ended up playing with their dog. She blitzed around with her pudgy little body and I jumped back and forth to egg her on. Why do I get along better with animals than people? Then I petted their enormous cat. They really overfeed these poor creatures.

When I came back outside and shared with the group what I had been up to they all smiled indulgently. Kate and her love of animals. I felt like a novelty. Especially to Work Guy. I stood behind him, kind of like I was ready to be off. He ignored that and teased me, so I put my hand to his face. He shrugged it off, irritated. I felt as if I had spilled paint all over the Principal's floor again. Work Guy chastised me that I been petting the cat, and he's allergic. I wanted to become a shrinky dink.

He asked why I was standing, several times, very pointedly. I wanted to stand. Finally I sat. I zoned out while they talked. I could tell that the wife did too. She was used to this. It was her life. I started to daydream about being somewhere else.

Then Work Guy told me to have a cigarette. I was still holding it, but I always feel so uncomfortable smoking around people who don't. Not to mention one that's pregnant.

"Go ahead and smoke. You won't bother anyone."

"I'm ok."

"You can smoke, go ahead."

"Really, I'm ok." Tried to smile apologetically.

"You can have a cigarette, Kate. I can tell you want to."

"No. I am fine." Annunciate. Perhaps he'll understand.

The conversation continued on and I went back to daydreaming. After a while I noticed that Work Guy's beer wasn't getting any lower in his glass. I began to fixate on it. Just drink the damn beer! An hour later and it appeared he had maybe taken 1 sip. I wanted to scream. I could have just had 3 beers to your one sip, what is wrong with you! Granted I had stopped drinking because I had thought a four hour hang out session would come to its conclusion soon.

"Just smoke a cigarette already." He gave me an exasperated look. Everyone was staring at me. My throat closed and my chest began to tighten.

"I'm really ok." Nervous smile.

"I can tell you want one. You keep playing with your lighter."

"Really, I am fine." It felt like there was a wave of light pulsating in my chest. An atomic bomb. An ugly orgasm of pain ready to strike.

"Just have a cigarette, no one cares."

"Yeah, go ahead. We don't mind." His friend interjected.

I was losing control. My eyes would soon start to tear if no one left me the hell alone.

"I'll be ok. I would stop wanting one if you-" pointed evil look at Work Guy, "would stop bringing it up."

"Well, you were playing with your lighter!"

"It's sitting on my lap, and I wasn't even touching it!" I wanted to run away. Perhaps I could call Ange and have her call me back with some emergency that could help me flee this newly created living hell.

Finally there was a reprieve. And the beer very slowly inched down down his glass. He talked about our sex life, candidly. I tried to put on a brave face and joke around, but I wanted to slap him. We weren't to the stage yet, like his married friend, where he could just open up and share as if he was expected to take it for granted and mock openly.

Then, he talked about his grandpa getting social security. He laughed about the fact that the man is a millionaire yet he collects social security. He and his friend started going off about how people shouldn't get social security and they should just save their money for the future. Where was I? The Republican National Party?

That bad burny feeling was entering my chest again. What about people who live paycheck to paycheck? What about teachers? With a shrug they thought those people should fend for themselves. These two men who grew up in fancy suburbs, in nice houses and had relatives who made millions. Took private jets and had their own personal limos at their disposal. And they all believed that my mom shouldn't have a right to do anything but work for the rest of her life. Or me, for that matter. What about elderly people with no families to take care of them when they are too infirm to work? Their families couldn't afford to take care of them, their own children and save for the future.

I kept feeling like I was going to cry. That life is hopeless unless you're rich and have every opportunity to make money. As they argued with me, I kept hearing the Ben Fold's song "Bitch went nuts" in the background and finally just said the one thing I most certainly was not thinking.

"You're right." And breathed deeply as they thought they had won. I would just crawl deeper into the back of my mind and pretend I was at home. My heart was breaking into a thousand peices again. I will never be happy.

The boys started talking about a movie they wanted to see the next day. Futuristic comic book type that had gotten bad reviews. But there were chicks with pigtails and dragons so I should love it, right? Fuck off.

"I can't go tomorrow. I have to work." I wanted to say, some of us have to practice at working for the rest of our lives because if people like you keep breeding I won't have any social security to look forward to...

"We can got to a noon show." Work Guy says. Everyone looks at me expectantly. What am I to say?

"I have some other things around the house that I need to do before I go to work." What I really wanted to say was that I like to have some down time on my weekend before I have to go to work. Rushing to Casa Grande after a movie doesn't really fit in with that.

"It has dragons.." Oh if that's all it takes. Sure.

"No."

They all went inside and I had my cigarette. I was so wound up inside I wanted to cry, again. It was a beautiful cool night and I was forced to feel like my skin was too tight. I followed them in the house, praying we get to go soon. They made me watch the trailer of the movie, as if that would change my mind. I informed them it had gotten really bad reviews, again. They didn't care. I said no again.

We left, saying thank you and what a nice evening it had been. I decided I am just not a people person. In the car I was silently working through why the night had bothered me so much. I'm depressed, so that probably was the main thing.

Work Guy asked what I was thinking. And he's the college grad... I tried to brush it off but he pushed. I told him I didn't like how he kept telling me to smoke. He apologized. Told me he loves me. I wanted to say "Then you need to learn to take a hint."

He complained that I wasn't holding his hand. His arm had been draped over me, and I was holding on to that but had missed that he wanted a hand hold. He acted as though I missed something very important, told me he just needs to feel loved. It was an odd manipulation. Making me feel guilty for not holding his hand when I had felt like an idiot all night with his talk of our sex life, my smoking and democratic views. Didn't he remember me saying I how much I detest hand holding? I didn't think I could crawl back into myself any further.

In the parking lot where I had left my car, I looked back at Cutter and asked if he wanted to go home and read a book. Work Guy took the hint. So sometimes he can....

"Want to have a sleepover?"

"Not tonight." I smiled, trying to act like everything was ok. I kissed him briefly and went home. To my patio and book and the feeling that I was in the right place with the one person who would always treat me well. Cutter. I half expected a text or call from Work Guy as I read my book. Nothing.

The next morning, nothing. It is now afternoon, and nothing.