Matt and I met at Ambrosia last night for dinner. I sat at the bar waiting for him as he’d gotten lost driving from his new office in Plainfield. The Plainfield drive is the best motivation for returning to California, and I’m all for it.
I once had a few dates with a guy from Plainfield, and when I told my sister, who was living in L.A. or New York or Florence, Italy at the time, she said, “Jill: Plain…field? Get out of that relationship immediately!”
I would never be so shallow as to break up with someone because of where they live, but when he had me over for dinner and served green bean casserole layered with creamy off-brand mushroom soup, I knew we needed to go our separate ways.
While sitting at the bar last night, a guy approached me with a big smile and asked, “Julie?” I chuckled and answered, “Close, but no.” Embarrassed, he apologized and returned to his table. Julie arrived a few minutes later and I eavesdropped on their blind date. When I heard her talking about her Easy Bake Oven, I felt kind of sorry for him.
Matt called several times apologizing for being late. I told him to stay on the phone and read me the names of the streets as he passed them: Guion Road; Georgetown Road; Lafayette Road. Politely, I said, “Honey, you need to turn the car around; you’re heading west; I am to the east.” People who aren’t from Indy have a difficult time with the fact that Kessler runs in all directions.
Matt’s loud, impatient moan filled the line, followed by a couple of expletives. I told him I was fine enjoying my wine and listening to the train wreck date, and to take his time. It took him an hour to find me.
We went to the Vogue after dinner to see Broken Social Scene. They have a Feist substitute now since her solo career took off, but they were still good (and Canucks!). I keep introducing him to good music and he keeps asking for more.
The average age at the Vogue last night? I’d say about 22. Life is good.
No comments:
Post a Comment