"You're my sugar honey iced tea baby/you're just as sweet as could be" -
Kelis, Sugar Honey Iced Tea (Tasty)
Immediately, we've got the giggles.
TWOpointFIVE and I took our seats at
Buddha's Belly and after she ordered water for herself and our invisible friend,
BlueEyes, she informed me she and BlueEyes were starting
Operation B.I.T.C.H. "It means Babe In Total Control of Herself," she said.
I raised an eyebrow.
'See, it's about taking control. Not being so nice. Not being the girlfriend before you're the girlfriend."
Ahhh. It all became clear. After eating some chilled shrimp vietnamese spring rolls and jasmine rice, BlueEyes showed up running late and said, "So, what do you think of Operation B.I.T.C.H?"
"I think it's fine because this year I'm engaged in Operation P.I.M.P.," I replied.
"P.I.M.P.?"
"Party In My Pants," I said and clapped. Insert one minute of giggles here. "What?" I continued, "The Twenty Oh Fresh is The Year of The Sexy and trust, there is always a party in my pants. I'm a P.I.M.P." Clap.
"It's The Year of The Sexy," BlueEyes asked.
"Indeed. We're working on The Sexy. I'm spending a lot of time figuring out the how, why and what of Sexy."
"I like this. So, do you think Operation B.I.T.C.H. will be successful?"
"I'm not sure. It seems like a lot of non-effort in the hopes of illiciting a reaction. That's not the way science works."
"So, what should I do," BlueEyes asked.
"Tell him he needs to take you out, on like a Friday, and that it needs to be somewhere that he needs to wear nice pants."
"Oh, I can't do that. What if I just make-out with him?"
"No," TWOpointFive and I said in unison. "We say no to NCMO."
(pronounced Nick-Moh)
"NCMO?"
"The Non-Commital Make-Out. Friends can make-out and still not be any further in a relationship," I explained.
"What you need," said TwoPointFive, "is a DTR."
"DTR?"
Again in stereo, "Define The Relationship."
"See," I said, "We're freaks in L.A. Everybody else in the world at our age is getting married or in long term relationships or whatever. Nobody dates anybody around here. We're so weird. We have all these low expectations about the people we like but all these high expectations about the passion and romance so we get caught up. We don't care that they don't have a job and still live at home and might have a criminal record, we just really want them to love us the way we imagine love. The way the movies and the tv shows and the screenplays we're writing make it seem."
"We want the
Sex in the City note on the bed that says 'I'm making breakfast' and then pancakes," said TWOpointFIVE.
"With three people watching," I added.
"Maybe not that."
"But yeah, I just want a date. I'm so relationship guy and I'm totally trying to break that because really I just want to go on a date. What's the big deal, it's a date. Dinner and a walk or something. The problem, though, is Sunday Mornings. Sunday Mornings I want to make breakfast for someone. I want to read the paper with someone. I want someone to be there who I don't have to do something with. We can just be. On Sunday Mornings, I want to be with a person I don't hate."
BlueEyes and TWOpointFIVE, in unison, "That's exactly it."
"And, really," I continued, "I don't even need to see them the rest of the week. Just be in my bed Sunday Morning so I can go make breakfast and maybe we can walk to, like, Starbucks holding hands."
"That's all I want," sighed TWOpointFIVE. "I just want to hold hands and walk to Starbucks. With our dogs. On a play date."
We all sighed together. And held hands. Fingers intertwined.
I looked in their eyes and smiled.
"P.I.M.P." Clap.
And, again, the giggles.