Homesick Texan Wants to "Chew 'Em Up and Spit Them Out" and Then Wonders Why She Scares Men

Thursday night I treated Vincent to Texas Roadhouse. Had a good time hanging out with him and chatting about the typical stuff. Friends. Random insults of just about everything. My target du week was the restaurant. The Pace picante sauce commercials..."New York City!"...have got nothing on this place. Started in Indiana. Peanuts in buckets. A neon armadillo riding a horse. Deer with bulging glass eyes that make them look satanic. A "Chili Dogs" poster with a neon howling wolf...in the restroom. A painting of former Tennessee quarterback Peyton Manning standing over the ALCOA plant and extending his arms over the Smoky Mountains like Moses while Coach Fulmer looks on and applauds. If these things don't spell Texas, then what does? The only reason I was at this lame joint was because the food was free. Mystery shop and all. Then I talked to older Matt for the first time since his birthday. Having-a-grumpy-night older Matt. Handsome, work-picture-now-online, older Matt. Just finished covering the 278 down in Mississippi. He was what I termed a (insert strong Tennessee accent here) "domestic foreign correspondent." He preferred "intrastate...I mean interstate correspondent." He was reimbursed for travel for the first time ever as a newpaper reporter. Impressive! Now he's trying to get a trip to the Mojave Desert to see the 278 there right before they head to Iraq. He complained about how flat and boring Mississippi and Alabama are. "Yeah, well, try Texas." Told him to look for the 15-year-old skater-looking guy, Richard. He asked about Richard's legal troubles. Ouch. Yeah, I know. I hung out with someone with a pending felony count. What a winner. I went on a fishing expedition for a compliment on the homemade card. "A right nice little card." Yeah! His twelve-part series on the 278 made people cry. Everything sounded very sweet, but of course his tough shell held up. Yeah, he "jerked" the readers around. Made 'em cry. Well, I'll show you crying boy. I'll chew you up and spit you out. ;)
Friday night Chaunda asked me where I wanted to eat. We decided to follow my idea. I'd go to a road and then find a place and play car hide-and-seek. Should have given her a tougher clue than "similar to something you call me." El Chico. She found me very easily. True Tex-Mex. True Texican food. I was already so homesick. Sunshine. A week of sunshine. We'd had so much sunshine. I just don't get that anymore. Not here. That and the people are what I miss about Texas. We had a Texan waiter. Made me more homesick. The waiter was in three tornadoes in the southern suburn of Dallas he grew up in. In one, his dog was thrown from the front yard on over the house and into the fence in the backyard. Survived. Cute. Friendly. Slight accent. Pathetic me didn't pick up that it was a Texas accent. Thought it was an east Tennessee one. Was the kind of guy I'd fall for. I'm not crazy about accents, but his wasn't strong. Then he mispronounced "relleno." Attraction gone. He became the kind of guy I'd chew up and spit out. No, I would get bored with him.
Chaunda and I were planning on going to Amnesia, but like always, it was still dead at 11:30 so it was either go to the 'Sel or to what Vincent calls the "Old Coke and Poke." Chaunda said, "You want to slap Al?" Why, of course. Slap Al. Sure. Fits the theme. I was talking to Vincent while walking through the parking lot. Saw Al's car. My stomach sunk. Told Chaunda, "Yes, he's here." Walked in. Saw him. Skirted the packed dance floor and surprised him on his perch. Stepped up, caught his eye not even three feet in front of his face, and gave him a right hook to his....left shoulder. Chummy but hard. Kept walking. Found Chaunda. Tried to point him out to her. Gone. Couldn't find him. Checked for the car. Gone. I scared him off. Well, good! He deserved it. Yes, conceding to Vincent, I enjoyed the power trip. I'd gotten my revenge, albeit not what I really wanted. But, no I wasn't being a "stalker." That's what Vincent called me -- jeez. Just because I went to the parking lot - jeez. But it definitely fit the theme - "chew 'em up and spit 'em out." I don't always mean that phrase in an evil way, by the way. It keeps me in check...it keeps me from going after men who won't keep my interest. But it can also have evil or naughty connotations depending on my mood. Applied to older Matt, it means something entirely different than how I've applied it to the waiter. And how I've applied it to Al. Al the chauvinistic Greek jerk. Air of machismo. Body of chicken. As I told younger Matt Saturday night, "Half of me wanted to kill him. The other half of me wanted to kiss him." Arrgh.
Well, Vincent's nickname for the joint finally rang true. This was a new experience for me. I went to the back to watch the football game. A guy came and sat at the table next to mine. Started quietly asking me questions across the chasm. "What?" So he moved to my table. Joy.
The needs-to-go-away guy: "What's your name?
Me: "________"
Tony: "I'm Tony."
Tony: "Where do you live?"
Me: "The north side. Where are you from?"
Tony: "Turkey. I live in Maryville now. How old are you?"
Me: "32."
Tony: "Single?"
Me: "Yes."
Tony: "Kids?"
Me: "No."
Tony: "You're pretty. Why don't you have a boyfriend?"
Me with smirk: "I'm picky."
Tony: "Where do you work?"
Me: "A college."
Tony: "UT?"
Me: "No."
Tony: "Then which one?"
Me: "A different one." Thinking: "Gofaraway University."
Tony: "I'm glad you're not a cop."
Me: "Why?" Thinking: "How do you know I'm not a cop, you idiot?"
Tony: "'Cause I just did coke."
Me: "In the restroom?"
Tony: "Yeah...I've got some left. You want some?"
Me: "No."
Tony: "Want to go to IHOP?"
Me: "No."
Tony: "I just broke up with my girlfriend a couple of months ago. I'm lonely. I want to have some fun."
Me thinking: "Wow, you've won me over here. Really."
Tony: "Want to dance?"
Me: "I'll go and dance when a song I like comes on again."
One did. I began walking away.
Tony: "You going to come back here?"
Me with a smirk and a lie: "Yeah."
I broke my cardinal rule. Don't dance in the open. Must dance against a wall. Not one minute after getting on the edge...the edge of the floor...I got grinded on. Death. Death to the guy who did that, I was thinking. He slid to the side and eyed me to see what my response was. What'd he expect? "Oh yeah, do me baby." Look of death is what he got. So I moved over to the wall. Besides, Tony was watching me. With the exception of a creepy mobster-looking guy who kept watching me I was then fine. Dancing. Alone. I enjoyed watching this cute doofus across the way act like a dog in heat. Can't guys pick up on the fact that the way to approach a girl is not from her backside with a grind? This guy did it to this one girl three times. Poor girl gave him a WTF look and skirted away each time. But the WTF look wasn't strong enough. No, no guy does that to me twice. She'll learn...eventually. He'll learn...after he's slapped around a little.
I like to periodically close my eyes for a couple of seconds at a time while dancing. I'm there for me. I like to focus on my dancing and try to forget where I am, especially when I'm at the old "Coke And Poke." So I opened my eyes to find...Surprise. Mobster guy was three feet in front of me. "Want to dance?" "No."
So, I darted off to watch football again. BSU vs. Brigham Young. Thirty seconds left. Awaiting the winning field goal. Another man I'd encountered near the dance floor came up and repeated his line. "I meant what I said. You dance well." "Thanks." He was being nice enough. Perhaps fatherly since he was old enough to be my dad. I didn't want to find out. Ice, ice, ice. Not quite a look of death but close. I just want to watch football and then dance...alone. Get it?
Younger Matt came to visit for the weekend. Crashed at Michelle's Friday night. He came and picked me up Saturday night to take me to his favorite place. Downtown. Listened to Lorreta Lynn on the way. Accents. Laughter. Played a song that nearly made me cry. "Van Lear Rose." Flipped through some stations. "Up on the roof..." "No, turn it. The Nylons. It's Brad." We went to Preservation Pub and then bypassed Downtown Grill because of the cover charge. Walked past the new sushi place and then down to Cup O' Joe. I watched a chess game, and we shared chocolate cake. We had a spat over an accusation that I was rude to the chess players. Wrong! Matt got...surprise...the look of death. It doesn't kill since it usually comes with a smile. My friends can get away with riling me up...I'm weird in that I enjoy it. But this was a real spat. He'd pissed me off. It finally ended two blocks later. Matt wanted to walk the mile down to the river. I said I'd walk down to the river only because I had "ammo." "Ammo?" "Yes, this." A wadded-up Metropulse for bopping him upside the head. So then of course Matt went fishing...to rile me up. Only took him two more blocks to garner up the courage. Somehow Keith had come up.
Younger Matt:"So, he wasn't the gay one?"
Me: "No!"
Younger Matt: "Which one was the gay one again?"
Me: Laughing. "Die...die...die."
Younger Matt just cracked up and dodged the Metropulse.
We didn't end up going down to the river. I don't know why. I think it was because he was concerned about my feet with the shoes I was wearing. It's Matt. I ask not. I just follow. So we sat down in a little park by a fountain. And the conversation on the "gay one" continued. Then it turned to older Matt.
Younger Matt: "Just jump his bones already."
Yada yada yada.
Me: "I don't want to lose the friendship."
Yada yada yada.
Younger Matt: "Get married, ____."
Me: Speechless. Thinking: "Great, now he's being Dad."
When we got back to my place, Matt asked about getting up on the roof. I'm glad we couldn't think of a way. Just what I needed was another romantic location to hang out with him and be reminded about my need to get married. I got out and decided that that night would be the night I'd try to do what I've always wanted to do. Try to sleep on the porch. I blasted my stereo and then cracked the window. Clouds began moving in. The mackerel sky looked as if I'd used the porch's latticework as a cookie cutter. I was mesmerized. The moon was beautiful. I was in heaven, but once I decided to try to sleep, I couldn't. I'd close my eyes and try not to focus on the noises or think about what a stupid thing it was for a girl to do. The traffic was too loud, but I didn't want to use earplugs. Even though the house is isolated, I don't want to sleep alone on the porch with earplugs. No, I needed to be able to hear someone approach. Had to remember that I'm "just a girl." Yeah, Gwen, it sucks. It really does. So, I moved inside. Finally fell asleep around 6 or so.
So, yesterday I played Scrabble with Mike and Chaunda at Shoney's. Firefighter Kevin called. I thanked him for calling since I didn't have his number anymore what with the new phone. After a smarmy response from my thanks going to his head, he told me that he had a root canal Thursday. He chipped his tooth somehow while helping clean up debris from Frances down in Florida. My hero. Insert "Awwwwww...." here. I told him that I admired what he'd done. Like I always do. But it was too much ego-stroking. He resorted to his typical self -- snipping at my heels like a puppy dog. Picking on me. Fishing for information on my dating life via accusations of my being a slut. He loves to rile me up that way. So I fought fire with fire. Told him that his tooth was just another knotch of heroism to add to his bedpost. And kept going. "Oh yeah, Captain Kevin, Mr. Firefighter God, where art thou following?" Then he bemoaned the fact that I hadn't taken him to Texas Roadhouse. So now I will. Men...arrgh. Just what I needed. The person who jokingly calls me his fiance' via saying things like, "Tell him you can't go on another date with him. You're going to be Mrs. ______"...that person calling me so soon after the lecture from younger Matt in which he channeled the spirit of my Dad. "Get married." My Dad wanted to marry me off even before I graduated from high school. And everyone wonders why I'm so damn independent. Jeez. I've thought about what it'd be like to marry Kevin. I could do it, but it wouldn't last. His romantic nature just doesn't win out over his hangups...I won't go there.
I left Scrabble and called Brad. Found out I needed to call him back. Then pent-up guilt led to my dropping by at Ray's place. Called first. No answer. Dropped by. Besides, I stopped calling him in January. Like he's going to answer a call. Probably wouldn't answer the door. No, I was wrong. He opened the door and peeked out. Face only. Was very surprised. But I wonder what would have happened had I been in front of the eye hole. Said he had the flu. He said "hold on." Came back with a robe on and said he'd just gotten back from New York and that he had Barbara on hold on the phone. Looked thin. Facial hair. Made me wait again. Showed me pictures. Told me he's lost 40 pounds. Said he'd call me back after he got done talking to Barbara. I said, "Truce?" and extended my hand. He said, "You don't want to touch my hand. I'm sick." I said, "Truce?" He said, "Truce." We'll see.
I called Brad back while at the grocery store. The fact that a grocery store is where I picked him up never left my mind during the conversation. We caught up. Told him my new phone lets you choose pictures for each person. Ones that come with the phone.
Me: "You may be able to guess what I chose for you."
Brad: "Let's see. Mickey Mouse."
Me: "Like Mickey Mouse comes on cell phones for free. Verizon would hafta give Disney a million dollars to get Mickey."
Brad: Laughs. "Yeah, you're right."
Me: "I chose dark sunglasses. Mr. Mystery. A mystery to me. The last time I ever saw you you were wearing dark sunglasses. Magic Kingdom. June. Perfect for you."
Brad: "You know I don't even own a pair now. I'm surprised you remember that."
Me: "I remember everything. All of my friends have Alzheimer's but me."
So, we talked about younger Matt and how I feel about the move. Brad thinks it'll be a good thing. I know I'll miss Knoxville, but I know the move is what will end up being best for me. But I'm kind of scared to work with younger Matt again. "I love him and all, but he intimidates me. He wants me to be the best I can be and won't let me be lazy. It's what I need, to be pushed, you know that. But I'm such a rebel...when someone tells me what to do, my gut reaction is hell no, but...you know that. He's amazing. That's why I call him my brother. But sometimes it's too much. He's so bossy."
Brad: Laughs. "Do you hear yourself?"
Me: "Yeah, yeah, I know, but like I keep saying, he's a younger, male version of me. I've changed, I swear. I'm not as impatient and bossy as I once was."
Brad: "It's just funny to hear that someone intimidates you."
Me: "Hey now. Everyone has someone who intimidates them. Yeah, I'm strong, but Kate and Matt are strong too. Very strong. It's intimidating, but it's what I need."
Security guard holding up four fingers.
Me: "What?"
Security guard: "Four minutes. We close in four minutes."
Me thinking: "Speaking of intimidating..."
Me: "Great. Four minutes to close. I'm the annoying customer holding up the checkout girl from going home."
Brad: Laughs. "Well, call me when you find out about the job."
Me with my smarmy, typical reaction to a command: "Yes, sir."
Brad: Laughs.
Me: "So, I intimidate you?"
Brad: Laughs.
That was all the answer I needed. The person I fell in love with harder than anyone else, and I intimidate him. Jeez. I've sufficiently been made to feel like a witch now. No wonder I couldn't sleep last night. Too many men on my mind. I came up with a solution for older Matt. A scenario to play out in person. The funny thing is that it could possibly play out in a way that ends with a scene from a dream I had about him recently. That would be so in line with my life. Dreams do come true with me. Conversations in dreams become ones in real life. I came up with a conversation to have with Brad. Now it's just a matter of figuring out when they will take place. Men...arrgh. "Get married." Yeah, well...two of the three men I'd marry in a heartbeat are ones I talk to all the time. Go figure. Yeah, and neither lives in the same town as me. One is an hour and a half away. And the other is halfway across the country.