The Brunch Incident

Frank was sitting on the floor with his legs under the coffee table as he sorted his newest collection of stamps when there was a knock on the door. He scooted himself away from the table and walked with a lurch to the door, while trying to get circulation back to his legs. The knocks grew in intensity with each subsequent one, until Frank unlatched the door open.

“Amy?”

“Yeah, Frank. You ready or what?” Amy tapped the face of her wristwatch.

“Or what?”

“You know, brunch, remember?” Amy was wearing her flowered sun hat and matching yellow pantsuit.

“… That today?” Frank stood back and hunched his shoulders, as Amy brushed past him and made her way into the house.

“What ya got here?” She stopped at the coffee table with stamps scattered about.

“Those came in this morning.”

“Is that a Penny Black?”

“Yep, 1840, pristine condition. Quite the find,” Frank said with a smile.

The two exchanged a few more pleasantries before Frank put on his sweater vest and open toed sandals.

“Listen, I’m just going to pop into your bathroom really quick,” she said. “You know those public bathrooms are just the worst.” Amy entered the bathroom.

Just as Amy closed the door, Franks shouted, “You know, I just had that remodeled. All new fixtures. State-of-the-art!”

Inside, Amy took a seat on the toilet. When she was done, she reached for the toilet paper. She grimaced when she felt it. It was thin, rough, and strangely brittle. Oh, please, no she thought. He can’t be serious, she pulled one sheet, then another, and held it up to the light; she could see through it. Seriously Frank? She rolled her eyes and attempted to wipe and then tried a few blots. Each attempt ended in disaster as she pulled more sheets to clean her fingers.

She finished with a grimace and held her hand far away from her nose. Amy waved her hand under the sink faucet and cold water flowed without a sound. She waved her other hand under the soap dispenser and purple soapy foam piled into her palm. She began to scrub and rinse with disgust and determination. She repeated the washing two more times after failing the finger smell test.

When she existed the bathroom, Frank was arranging the throw pillows on his sofa.

“Frank,” she said, startling him. “That was… unexpected.”

“Unexpectedly good, right?” Frank was proud. “So, what about the motion sensing faucet and soap dispenser? What did you think of that... How about the auto dimming mirror lights?”

“Those are nice.” Her nose was scrunched, and she frowned.

“I know right. Loved the way it turned out. You know, you’re the first to Cristen it, so to speak.” Frank was oblivious to Amy’s expression and carried on about the craftsmanship and efficiency. “It's really State-of-the-art stuff, you know…”

“Frank!” Amy cut him off. “What’s with the paper?”

“Huh?”

“The toilet paper.”

“Oh, yeah, It’s… economical. Less waste,” He shrugged.

“It’s like wiping with sandpaper. Frank, its single-ply industrial grade crap. Heck, I can see through it.”

“Sustainability. Everything is super-efficient in there.”

“Okay, would you use it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you wipe your ass with it?”

“Oh, god no. I use the bidet upstairs.”

“WHAT!”

“The bidet upstairs. Got it a few months ago. It’s great. Heated seats, auto adjusting spray, a cleaning sensor, it’s beautiful. Never have to touch a thing. It’s got a blow drier too. You know.”

“Shit, Frank! Why didn’t you tell me you had a bidet?”

“I don’t know, because It’s upstairs?”

“Do you know how many times I had to wash my hands because of that cheapskate piece of junk you call toilet paper?”

“It’s environmentally friendly, Amy. Besides, the guest bathroom is for guests anyway, which you are.” He nodded his head as if satisfied with his own logic.

“Guest? I’m a guest? How long have I known you, Frank? You think I’m just a… guest.?”

Frank seemed aloof as he admired his stamps and replied, “Well… technically… I mean… you don’t live here.”

Amy didn’t have words, so she chose to change the subject before her frustration got the best of her, “You know what, never mind. Are you ready? We should probably get going?”

“Did you hear the fan in there?”

“What?”

“Quiet as a mouse. Moves thirty cubic feet per second. Got it from a startup company.”

“Let’s just go, for crying out loud. I'm hungry.”

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THE RESTAURANT

__

Frank and Amy were seated at a bistro table.

“I’ll have a coffee, and the house special omelet, but go easy on the mushrooms.” Frank tells the waiter.

“I’ll go with coffee, a scone, and one of those pomegranate muffins.” She told the waiter.

The two carried on with their conversation until the waiter returned with their food and set in on their table.

“Oh, this smells delicious.” Amy said.

Frank unwrapped the cloth napkin and utensils. He placed the cloth on his lap and stirred his coffee.

Amy held the muffin under her nose and inhaled as she began to peel away at the wrapper when she noticed Frank staring at her.

“What?”

“You going to unwrap that?”

“Yeah, that’s how you eat it., silly.”

“Really?” he recoiled a bit in his seat.

“What now?”

Frank held up his fingers near his nose and took two quick sniffs and crinkled his face.

“Really Frank?” She set her muffin down and slid her chair away from the table with a rigid squeak and stood up. She leaned across the table until she was nose to nose with Frank. “You really think I wouldn’t clean my hands until every bit of poo particle was gone?”

“Eh?” Frank shifted his head away from hers.

“Fuck you Frank!” Amy turned towards the restrooms and stormed off with the sound of her heels echoing in her wake.

Frank took a sip of his coffee as the rest of the patrons started at him.

“What?” He shrugged and took a bite of his omelet.