If you haven't had one of those days, you probably will sometime. I'm sorry. It's a reality we all have to face. Keep your chin up. Smile.
Try to smile.
Breathe.
And whatever you do, don't go to Wendy's on a Saturday Night.
Tonight, I went to see The Last Five Years with my friends Kate and Ivy, who I shall refer to from now on as Sam and Dean when I'm talking about the adventures the three of us go on. In case you were wondering, yes, that makes me Cas.
Don't question. Just go along with this.
Anyway. The Last Five Years was a beautiful musical, and very well-sung and acted. I'd not seen it before, and I was quite impressed by the premise, which was probably quite tricky to pull off from a writer's perspective. Nonlinear anything can just as often jam a monkey wrench into the creative process and make whatever you're writing into a train wreck. But this writer pulled it off.
We were all fairly hungry afterwards, and so we all piled into the Impala (I wish it was actually an Impala, that would be badass) to go find some food (pie was mentioned). We ended up at a Wendy's, because we're a bunch of college-age girls and we make great decisions when it's late at night and we've watched a show about relationships dissolving.
Kate/Sam and Ivy/Dean went to the counter to order. I was standing in the back, not really sure what to do with myself because I a) was not planning on ordering the food because I'd had dinner and b) did not attend high school with these ladies so some of their inside jokes were a little lost on me--but then, I am Cas. I feel like that's Cas's job.
Anyway, they were like, "What are you doing all the way back there, come stand with us!" So I did, leaning on the emphatically bolted down cattle-herd railing. And this guy--about fiftyish, gray, wearing a tank top, and a little overweight, came up behind me. People always talk about how you can feel when people are staring about you, but I totally did not think that was anything but a literary device until tonight.
He was looking intently at my face in profile, and I was trying to be engaged in listening to Kate and Ivy order so that I'd give off the "please don't talk to me" vibe. I'd been congratulating myself on working an entire Farmers' Market without getting awkwardly hit on once, and I didn't want to break the streak I was having today. But it totally broke.
Him: That's a beautiful dress.
Me: Thank you.
*pause as I try to look at the menu with even more intensity.*
Him: You wear it beautifully.
Me: Thank you. Really.
Him: I really like it.
Me: I like it too.
Him: You look beautiful.
Me: Thank you.
*pause as Kate and Ivy exchange a look and I straighten up from my position on the railing*
Him: Don't get nervous. I'm harmless.
Me: I know, it's fine--
Him: I just think you look beautiful.
Me: And I thank you for the compliment.
*pause as the food is placed on trays and Ivy and Kate and I exit the line*
Wendy's Worker: Can I take the next order, please?
Him: You look beautiful!
As soon as we were out of the line, I asked my two friends if we could sit somewhere where I wouldn't make eye contact with Tank Top Guy. So we sat down at a table sheltered by a wall. Kate and Ivy started eating and I munched on a few fries. Kate and Ivy reassured me by saying that they had "felt the awkward for me" from that conversation, and I thanked them. Real friends feel awkward for you when you're hit on by middle-aged guys at Wendy's.
It was somewhere in this conversation that Ivy brought up wishing it was Wednesday so we could have eaten pie from the Village Inn, and I said something about Supernatural, and that was when we assigned each other our respective roles in the show, only Kate is the good-looking first episode Stanford Sam, not Sam Whose Hair Gets Progressively More and More Out of Control.
Which is a very important distinction to make.
Ivy announced, "I'm still hungry" after consuming her chicken nugget meal, and Kate said "Here, have these last three fries," and that was when I said "What if The Last Three Fries was a musical," and then Kate and Ivy started singing "I'm Still Hungry" at the exact same time and we all dissolved into a fit of giggles, which was interrupted by one of the Wendy's Employees, who struck up a conversation with us without any preamble whatsoever.
Lady: I've been working in that hot kitchen all day, and now I have to clean up out here.
I think everyone at my table sympathized with that. Working minimum wage is hard and unforgiving and people are freaking gross at fast food restaurants. I'm not sure why this is apparently a rule of Human Nature, but it really shouldn't be. I'd like to contest it. So we made sympathetic noises and thought that was the end of it.
Obviously it wasn't, or I wouldn't still be writing. The ensuing conversation went something like this:
Lady: The belt on the vacuum broke.
Kate: Oh, that's too bad.
Me: Yeah, I bet that must be really frustrating.
Lady: It is. The corporation spends all that money making those stupid commercials, and they won't buy us vacuums.
Kate: Yeah.
Lady: Have you guys seen the Wendy's commercials? They're really stupid.
Me: Yeah, they kind of are.
Lady: Do you think it's important to have a vacuum?
Ivy: Absolutely.
Lady: Would you tell them that?
Ivy: I'd totally sign that petition. I need to go get a napkin.
For some reason, I thought she was going to get a napkin to draw up a petition, which I thought was odd. Then I realized that made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and that I probably should stop going to bed at 2 in the morning.
Lady: You should tell them.
Kate: We will.
Lady: Only the corporation is in Kansas. Like Dorothy Gale. And Toto. If Dorothy was alive today, do you think she'd want us to have a vacuum?
Me: She totally would.
But what I was thinking was, she probably wouldn't. I mean, not because she wanted to treat the employees poorly, but because she kind of probably would have a fear about things that suck air. Anyone who had had a bad experience with a tornado like that might be a little edgy about suction. I know I probably would.
And also? If Dorothy was alive today? Dorothy is a pretty solidly fictional character, so I'm pretty sure that counts as alive, in a sense, but obviously she wasn't a real person, so...
She wasn't alive to begin with? I don't know. Fiction is hard. If there's one thing analytical essays taught me, it's to write about fictional characters in the present tense. So that's what I'm basing that off of.
Lady: I was Dorothy for the company Halloween party last year.
Kate: Oh, that's so nice!
Lady: I had the ruby slippers and the braids and everything.
Kate (who was doing most of the talking, I was hiding my face in my cup of ice): That must have been so fun.
Lady: It was! But yeah, do you think if Dorothy was alive today, that she would say we should have a vacuum?
Me and Kate: Totally, yeah, of course.
Ivy returned with her napkin, and that was when I caught sight of Tank Top Guy standing by one of the doors looking at our table, and therefore probably looking at me. Which, in my book, was as much a cue to leave as anything, and my friends followed my line of sight and were like, "Yep, let's go."
We hurriedly threw our garbage away and exited out of the opposite door. Tank Top Guy called after us to "have a safe and beautiful night, ladies! And watch out for drunk drivers!"
Which is a nice sentiment, really, but the situation beforehand was so uncomfortable that relief upon escaping the Wendy's was palpable. So we giggled.
Ivy: What was that? Was that real?
Kate: What just happened?
Me: I can't even--
We collapsed into the Impala, laughing and discussing the wide variety of strange conversations we'd just been party to.
Kate: Hil, you shouldn't have brought up Supernatural, because I'm pretty sure we were just in an episode.
Ivy: Pretty sure that was Hell. I think we were just in Hell.
Me: Can we just tell people that in conversation? "Well, this is pretty bad, but there was one time that my friends and I were in Hell--"
Ivy: We can totally just undermine other people's statements. "We've been to Hell."
Me: I pulled us out of hell!
Kate: You totally did. You saved us from perdition.
And we would have collapsed into another fit of giggles, except a third person had started approaching the car, looking for all the world like he was a zombie about to tap on the glass or possibly try to kidnap Kate, because that's who he was staring at. And that was when Kate decided it was time to leave the Wendy's parking lot and get as far away as possible from that particular portal to Hell so she backed out of the parking space and hightailed it out of there.
And the nice thing about having been to Hell is that suddenly quotes about Hell become modifiable:
"Hell is empty and all the devils are at Wendy's."
It's past my bedtime (angels need sleep, too). Cue "Carry On My Wayward Son." Roll credits.
Cas OUT.
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| This actually is US. It's a little scary. |
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