- Let's go get breakfast. You can blast your favorite metal in the truck on the way over. You'll get the spinach omelette and I'll get the strawberry french toast. Coffee all around. Many cups shared, always taken black. We can tease our favorite waitress, Alma, and see if we can get her to crack. I'll sing along to the 90s one-hit wonders that are playing in the background while you make a face of disgust. We'll both finish our plates completely. I'll reach for the check but you'll snatch it out from underneath me, sticking your tongue out.
- Let's go to the bookstore. I'll beeline for the new bestsellers while you meander through the mysteries and science fictions. We'll pretend not to be annoyed by the people who bump into us. We'll meet up in the middle of the store. You'll say you didn't find anything, as usual, while I carry my pile of five to ten books. At the checkout I'll start to put my card in the machine, but you beat me to it with your own card while sticking your tongue out again.
- Let's go to the furniture store. We'll test different couches, sitting on each one and maneuvering our hips for good measure. You'll groan at my love for dark fixtures and I'll grimace at your taste for raw wood. We'll have our usual argument over how firm a bed should be: you say a bed needs no give and I'll say a bed needs to be soft. We'll both make fun of the gaudy, pea-green velvet chair along with the gold embroidered chaise lounge next to it. We'll pretend shop for our future home and come to an agreement on the ideal look we're going for. I'll beg you for a wall of ceiling high bookshelves and you'll smile at me. "How predictable," you'll say.
- Let's go to the sushi restaurant. We'll roll our eyes at the obnoxiously loud man we're sat next to. I'll text you, "What an asshole." You'll laugh and nod in agreement. We'll order an appetizer, too many specialty rolls, and you an order of teriyaki chicken. "Are you sure you're going to be able to eat it all?," I'll ask. You assure me that you will this time. Our food will come out and we'll quickly devour it, as adept we've become with chopsticks over time. Your teriyaki will finally come out. "Can I get a box to go?", you ask the waitress. I give you a look. You, as usual, stick your tongue out at me.
- Let's go to the international market. I'll spend too much time in Japan, looking at all of the snacks and candies, while you'll be over in Germany trying to read me hard-to-pronounce labels. I'll show you the hot sauce section and we'll both take pictures of the Bob Ross-themed sauce that we find. I'll offer to buy you a bottle of your most treasured stuff but you'll politely decline. "I still have enough to last me a year." We'll walk hand in hand to the bakery where we'll drool over the fluffy eclairs and pristine cupcakes behind the glass cases. "Let's split one," I'll suggest but you'll slowly shake your head at me, knowing it would be a mistake for both of our diets. We'll both leave the store empty handed and hungry.
- Let's go to the coffee shop. You'll refuse to say grande because "it's snooty" so you'll say medium instead. You'll give them your name as loudly and as clearly as you can, knowing they'll get it wrong anyway. We'll pick a small table in the corner which I try my best to wipe off with napkins. "Taylor," they'll call as I grab my drink. You'll ask, "Is there enough sugar in that for you?" and I'll just grin in return, sipping carefully. "Brad," they'll call. No one stands up to take ownership and so you roll your eyes at me, knowing they misheard your name again. "Haha, Brad is your douchey alter-ego," I'll say, making fun of you. "It's not Brad. It's THE Brad," you'll correct me. "THE Brad wears a polo with his collar popped and a backwards trucker hat," I'll offer, still drinking. "THE Brad does whatever he wants," you'll say, pretending to pop your collar. "I bet THE Brad would say grande," I'll say, giving you a wink.
aug 6 2020 ∞
aug 8 2020 +