Since The Sag and I missed our annual birthday dinner (because I was broke and melancholy), he invited me out last Friday. I was already super excited! He picked me up like always (he's such a gentleman) and when I answered the door he said, "You're not wearing a dress?". I was floored. Normally, when we go to dinner out it's just your run-of-the-mill sit-down restaurant but that night he was dressed in dark denim, a chocolate brown and celadon green striped button-down shirt, and a sport coat. I had on my fat jeans, black snow boots, a black t-shirt and a pull-over fleece. What the hell, right?!?
So, I run to my room (a good ten feet) and start changing with a fury. I couldn't wear my black and white dress because I would have frozen my butt off. My favorite polka-dot dress was mysteriously MIA and I didn't want to wear the orange dress again. So I dug out my black wrap dress that he'd never seen me in, threw it on, thanked the gods that I'd shaved my legs that morning, put on some tights and my knee-high boots* and emerged a Goddess.
We walk to the car and he opens my door he is such a gentleman!, once he's in, he tells me how nice I look and that I'm in for a real surprise. Twenty minutes later he's navigating Downtown and I'm super antsy and beeeeegging to be let in on the surprise because I just can't stand it in any longer when I recognize the street we're on and squee with delight at the sight of my favorite Spanish restaurant. That's when I say, "Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Are we going to my Favorite Spanish Restaurant! Are we?!? Ohmigod!" He laughs and nods yes and I whip out my phone to text CBS111, "The Sag has brought me to my favorite Spanish restaurant! I'd have his baby right now if he asked.". That is a direct quote. No lie. Ask her.
We go in, sit down, and I'm suuuuuper excited. He already knows what I want but still lets me order for myself. We talk about stuff that means nothing at all and he tells me that his relationship with The Chick Who Shall Not Be Named is completely over now. Dinner comes and he says, "I wanted to talk to you about something". Me: mouth open. Fork: mid air. Food: untouched. I'm seriously beginning to wonder what this dinner is gonna cost me.
Because I know that I said thirty minutes ago that I would have his baby but seriously I'm not trying to have his baby. And the last time he looked at me that intently was when he was prepared to put all his dreams on the shelf for The Chick. I know that he wants to get married. I know that he wants children. We've talked openly about our desires for family. He spent Valentine's Day 2009 on my couch beside me watching SNL! I can tell you his future first born son's name!
But we never said we'd do this together and I just feel like if I put this meal in my mouth I'll be obligating my uterus for future use. All I can muster the courage to say is, "OK". He cracks his neck, his fingers, and his wrists. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He puts both forearms on the table and says, "I've started selling Advocare". Finally I can breathe! "And I'm coming to you because I know you've been doing this kind of stuff for years". I squint. He continues, "It's not a pyramid scheme, I swear! And I'm not asking you to join. I just want you to try it and if you like it tell your friends". I tilt my head to the right. He goes on, "It's just that you know so many more people than I do. You know like 300... no 500 people, right? You could really help me out if you like, end up liking it".
I finally I say, "Is that why you brought me here? To my favorite Spanish restaurant?". He looks at me sheepishly, "Yes".
The Sag: "Really?"
And then I ate. It was sooooo good. And if all I've got to do is buy some vitamins and meal replacement shakes, I'm all game. So check out Advocare products. Especially if you have fitness goals this year. My first order will be here on Friday and I'll try to remember to let you know if I'm seeing any positive changes.
*The Sag is a sucker for a woman in knee-high boots. *gives wink to every woman out there that's inboxing me for his number*