Dinner And a Movie

“Terrible” says Dennis. 

“Yet another classic example of someone's overly sentimental, pixilated and simplistic view of American culture....”

Here we go, I think

Another one of Dennis’ diatribes... 

Another dinner and a movie with Dennis.

Another Wednesday date night.

I feel the frustration building inside me. Why does it always end up this way? The most perturbing part about it all is that somehow, I actually still care. I actually wore my new earrings for this.

Nevertheless, I try to maintain my civility. Maybe the evening is still salvageable. 

"Oh Dennis"

I say poking him.

I flash Dennis a big lipsticked smile, but his face is stone cold in response.

“I don’t know, was it really so bad? The actors were pretty good I thought”  I say, with a goodnatured shrug.

“You thought so?” Dennis smirks

It's one of those smirks Dennis gives that tells me how stupid I am.

I’d waited all weeklong for this night out.

“I mean...” says Dennis with his head tilted flashing his classic patronizing, ingratiating glance. 

“Maybe to a certain standard.”

This is what It was all about. This is my romantic girlhood dream playing out in reality. Dinner and a movie with Dennis. I’m Cinderella and this is my ball.  Dennis, the scoffing, hypercritical, cold, calculated, arrogant and feelingless dud is my Prince Charming.

"Maybe for a certain audience."

For a moment I want to open my palm across his face. Whenever he speaks like that, my blood boils, getting hotter with each passing remark.

"It’s just that... when ‘I’ watch a movie.... maybe I just, I don’t know, expect more than ‘you’ do...”

“Yeah” I say biting my tongue. 

“I guess that’s it...”

I want so badly for this night to work I will agree with anything, accept any ill-disguised insult he wants to throw my way.

“Well that’s why I didn't really want to go tonight, Mik...”

He says

“I Just don’t get swept away anymore... “

“I don’t either” I say with a flat expression 

“But I like to go for that exact reason....” 

I continue. 

“To be disappinted?” 

Dennis flashes that patronizing smile once again. 

“No.”

I say drawing in a breath. This is Exactly what I didn’t want and now, here we are. 

“I go because a part of me still hopes that maybe it could happen. Maybe I could just lose myself to the screen and let myself get sucked into something, or somewhere, more interesting than this mundanity...”

"Escapism" Dennis laughs.

...

We’re driving along the streets near the high school we both went to. Images from my adolescence flash through my mind. 

I remember Jonah Hopper kissing me against one of the boarded up liquor stores on the corner. 

I remember going out for coffee with an older guy, Greg, who studied literature down the road at Harbour college.  

I remember one late night at the drive in, long after the movie had ended. Stephen Kraft is fingering me in the back of his Dad's Chevy convertible while The Guess Who plays on the radio. 

I remember the night I lost my virginity with the kicker from the football team and then getting burgers and fries with my girlfriends and spilling out all the juicy details. 

But most of all, I remember nights with Dennis, painfully similar to this one.  

“Why don’t we stop for a burger instead of that Italian place we always go to?”

I say. 

“A burger?”

Says Dennis. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Yeah”

I say. 

“Come on. It’ll be fun..."

"After that, you can buy me a milkshake.”

I smile.

Dennis grunts as though turning the steering wheel around required the same force to move a boulder. 

We walk inside Pat’s Patties and immediately, I’m reminded that it’s Friday night. The place is overflowing with the smells of grease, perfume and cigarettes. Nearly every table is occupied by some group of gum chewing, burger devouring, drunken, laughing teenagers.

I had forgot about Pat's Patties on a Friday night. I’d forgotten how everyone, nerd, jock and artsy kid all ended up there no matter where they had been before. I had forgotten the sound of giggling coming from gossiping teenage girls until right now, as it pours out from the table right beside us. 

Dennis grimaces while I strain myself to not stare at them with the envy I have building inside.  

“I have no idea why we're here. “

Says Dennis 

“This is why I like staying home”

“Me too” I agree, trying to deceive myself.  

But my voice is weak and unconvincing. My face and my eyes betray me as I continue glancing over at the table of giggling teens. 

"It makes me glad I'm through this part of life."

I say, while my throat tightens.

“Even when I was a teenager I wasn’t like these kids are. All they care about is stupid nonsense. Who is driving what. Who is going to which school. Who is fucking who, and all that same crap.”

Says Dennis. 

“Yeah...”  I say 

“I’m glad I knew better than to waste all that time.”

"You're better off..."

I say.

By this point, I can't even force the fake smile anymore.

Suddenly, The Guess Who comes on, blasting through the restaurant speakers.

“I never liked this band...” says Dennis shaking his head. 

I’m too entranced to hear him. My memories flood my consciousness. My veins pump blood for the first time in a long time. I have a chill tingling up my spine; a reminder of how It once felt to be a young girl— to be alive.

Suddenly, I am there, laughing with the table next to me, 

I can feel the same freedom they feel,

The dizziness of alcohol and cigarettes and laughter and loud music,

The sweetness of milkshakes, and the warmth rushing between my legs as we chatter on— going into every naughty detail from our scandalous night out.  

“The Guess Who is a great band.” I say interrupting Dennis.

My voice rips over the blaring sound speakers.

It cuts through the entire restaurant.

“They encapsulate the splendours and voraciousness of adolescence, as if their songs were transporting you there. Right there at that moment,  right to the very brink of experiencing life for all its beauty and pain and ecstasy. Experience for the sake of experiencing. Living a life for the sake of just fucking living..."  

I say, growing even louder. 

“Before the adult world took over you. Before the 9-5. Before being sucked dry of all feeling. Before enduring some chaste, sexless, loveless, colourless, fruitless relationship.” 

I finish, and realize the giggling from the table next to me has stopped and the girls staring down at their table with grave sympathy. Dennis shifts uncomfortably. 

“The fries are actually pretty good here...”

He says.