Singapore Adventure

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Eating The List
by venitha

"How are you doing?" Jim asks as we jaywalk through the rain to the shelter of a bus stop.

"I'm really hungry. I could go for sushi." A common state of affairs.

"Ooh, me, too." Thankfully, also a common state of affairs.

"Do you have your card?" A year of regular patronage, or, actually, a month of obsessive patronage, and Jim has qualified for a membership and very exciting special birthday discounts come April.

"No, of course not." Tragically, yet another common state of affairs.

"How about that paper?" Initially, they gave him a paper receipt, valid until he received the golden card.

He opens his wallet and searches to no avail.

"Ooh, do you have cash?" Hitting an ATM was his task as he left for a massage this morning and we scavenged less than $10 between the two of us.

"Well, I, um... no."

I look at him, bite my tongue, and take a deep breath to staunch my implosion over his sheer worthlessness. If I did implode, disappearing right here and right now, it's entirely likely that he would never find his way home. If not for the magnetism of their enormous flat screen tv, impossible to ignore for those of us without tv's, I have serious doubts whether he'd find his way back around the corner and down the block to the shelter of Cheryl and Eric's.

I look down River Valley Road bereft of buses and clench my fist tightly round the list in my pocket. Errands, numbered for optimal execution efficiency, are listed on one side, props required for said errands on the other. I want to make Jim eat it.


Three hours later, sushi cravings sated, errands run, and fatalities narrowly avoided, we slump on the couch with a pint of chocolate ice cream and a single spoon in celebration of Marilyn's 80th birthday far too far away. Her son has his faults, to be sure, but he's also honest and loving, smart and funny, handsome and sexy, cheerful and kind. And he has a wonderful mother.

"Thanks for putting up with me, Jim. I'm sorry I made you eat the list."

"Eat the what?"

"You mean I just imagined that? Oh, thank God."

He eyes me warily, taking the ice cream. "Thanks for putting up with me. I'm sorry, too."

I rest my head on his shoulder, and when we get to the bottom of the carton of Ben and Jerry's, he lets me have the last bite.