Comfort Food
"I can't believe you're dating a... teenybopper," he spat, while
picking the broccoli from his veggie side dish. After a mouthful of my
meal, I answered him.
"I've never known a girl who liked pop music because we gave those who liked it
hell in high school. It's interesting."
"Is that her across the street?" I nodded. "She just bought a copy
of 'Smash Hits' magazine! Look at her!"
"I see her," I smiled.
"So what happens when you're not boy flavour of the month?"
"She's not fickle. She likes what she thinks sounds good, it doesn't
matter how old it is." He raised his eyebrow. "You listen to your
stuff because it makes you feel good, and so does she."
"Except my stuff -- and you're stuff too, man, don't you forget -- does
sound good." I watched her come in the door and come up behind him.
"Wake up, dude! You can do better. For starters, a girl with taste,
and not an airhead who'll MMMBop her way through your three minute long
relationship and bring no meaning to it whatsoever."
He turned around to face her. She thwacked him one with her magazine.
While he was still recovering from the shock, she leaned over and grabbed a
piece of his unwanted broccoli.
"I don't like you because you won't eat broccoli."
He didn't answer that because he knew he would sound stupid. She sat next
to me and I wrapped an arm around her waist while she read her magazine.