43 - Lettuce

     "I'll just have a salad and a pineapple juice with no ice," I
told the cute waitress.  She was in her late teens and seemed to be having a
ball.
     "What is your name?"
     "Connie."
     "Connie, I need you to do me a big favor."
     "Sure," she said, her big brown eyes beaming.
     "I tend to be an asshole when it comes waitresses.  If I come close to
sounding like an asshole your job is to shut me down, OK?"
     "No problem," she said laughing as she walked away.
     Derich just looked at me like I was stabbing puppies. 
     "Dude, what the fuck are you doing ordering a salad?  I can't be seen
in here with you if you're going to eat a fucking salad."
     I am Derich's wingman.  Whenever we go out there is always, and I mean
always, some woman who literally throws herself at him by the end of the
evening.
     "I'm just trying to eat a little better.  Get into shape."  I had
recently gotten pictures back from an excursion to Boston and the shots were
none too flattering.  It's hard to battle the blubber until you get a chance to
see it through the unflinching eye of a camera.
     "Candy ass."  Derich wasn't the most sympathetic person I know.
     "Besides not to many girls I know are really interested in a bitter
bloated Negro.  Even the gay dudes I know want their guys to be in shape" I
wasn't Mr. Care-for-your-feelings myself.
     "That's why I like beer."  He said holding his bottle in the air.
 "It's not judgemental, non-committal, and always there when I need it. 
The more of me there is the more the beer likes me.  In fact it is actually
proud to be responsible for making more of me for these pigs to love.
     "Your problem," he continued "is that you talk too much. 
Prime example; that little shit with the waitress, unnecessary.  All you need to
do is make the requisite eye contact and when you talk to her don't say anything
stupid."
     These were all things I had said to friends of mine in the past.  This was
common knowledge to me.  He had no idea about the name game and my quest to
complete the alphabet.
     "Which is all well and good," I countered, "unless you don't
get the eye contact.  My job is to get my confidence back up to the point where
I am worth catching the eye.  Without that initial eye contact your excellent
point is a flimsy as lettuce."  I said as my salad arrived.
     "How am I doing, Connie?"
     "Great so far." She said with smiling eyes.
     "Thanks," I said as she danced away.
     "Candy ass."