Today, I got to pick the restaurant. I chose one that’s always bustling on the weekends, even when there isn’t a wedding reception being hosted, named after the Yangtze River in China. There was a mixture of language in the air, due to the fact that I was surrounded by large Chinese families, catching up on each others lives, and young Caucasian couples, on their Friday night dates. The families were all familiar. I could relate to every young boy in them, trying to finish his deep fried crab claw balls while concentrating on the game in his GameBoy. The couples…
I thought about the time we walked around those long, sterile aisles that only you could take me to. There were small plants of basil next to a miscellaneous food item sample stand, and it was my first time smelling the aroma of a live stalk. What a drastic difference it was from the basil I bought in a container, or labelled as “FRESH” when they were ripped from the roots before transportation.
“For some reason, I feel like steak”.
Someone from another couple overheard and couldn’t help laughing.
“I know exactly what you mean”, the man jovially said.
We looked for a steakhouse afterward. On the highway, I asked for a suggestion. Your knowledge of the local restaurants was always wider than mine. I gave reasons against your first two proposals, and you refused to continue, frustrated. I thought about the time we tried to find a game we could both get into, and you rejected the first eight. How difficult it was to not kick that Gamecube into the wall, and yet I didn’t say a word, something I could only control because of how much I still cared at that point. I put my foot down to make a decision (much better than the alternative), and we set off for a teppanyaki steakhouse.
It was a place that I saved for celebrations. We were seated alone at a table usually reserved for eight, along with a lone performer, twirling his knife and flipping his flipper. A celebration of us we agreed.
And I decided that those couples around me weren’t so unfamiliar either.
funny how people dont remember some things but vividly recall negativities.
what about the times she did sit and play games for what felt like hours to her, what about the times she pulled over –concerned– and not willing to drive forward until you talked about it, so concerned because you were crying after a frustrating day at work.
it was rosemary, and at that point, i thought “we” were enough to celebrate “sans” occasion.
now who’s being passive agressive.
First of all, I never forgot the efforts that she did make to enjoy the same things as me. Unfortunately, such a point didn’t fit anywhere in the story, which is why it was never mentioned. (She’s pointed out my cons many times before, but I never said anything because I keep this in mind). And really, the issue was my frustration at the hypocrisy, not my appreciation (or accused lack thereof) of the effort she put forth.
Secondly, she may remember herself as being so concerned that she refused to drive until I shared my problems. As I explained, I never spoke because I didn’t want to bring her down with the things that were worrying me. However, I remember her quickly starting the car and driving towards the highway, angry at me, because she didn’t like to be “ignored” in her car. Perhaps this is something I should have been more sensitive about; being ignored can be such a terrible thing, even if it’s to protect others from unhappy thoughts. Crying just isn’t good enough an excuse.
And we were enough to celebrate at that point. That’s the whole point of the entry. The fact that I saw these other couples, so happy with each other, sitting in adjacent seats, and I could share in their mirth because of the night in that steakhouse, even past that aggravating moment in the car. Like you, she would interpret compliments as insults, see the best of intentions as hateful deeds (keep an eye out for an entry entitled “Gag”, for clarification).
In any case, I think this is where I’m supposed to say something about this being my blog, and how I’m supposed to get to talk about whatever I want, but I think she knows this already (she used that one to get upset at me before, too).
But I think you’re right about the rosemary.