|legeros.com > Writing > The Big Trip > Lovers Quarrel|
Ourselves and several dozen others. When we arrived waterside, I realized that I wouldn't mind a swim. Preferably directly underneath the falls. And, that I was entirely comfortable with shedding some clothes, right then and there. Sara, however, did not like the idea; not because she expected embarrassment in the company of Yours Immodest. Rather, she was worried about her own seat. Her car seat. Her leather car seat, in a carefully up-kept 1999 Trans-Am parked up top. "You'll get it wet," she brow-furrowed.
"What if I swim in my grunds and leave my shorts on shore?"
"You'll still be wet when you put them back on."
"What if I dry myself with a tee-shirt and ride home topless?"
"You won't get dry enough."
"What if I purchase a towel up top and dry myself off?"
"Your clothes will still be wet from walking up there."
"What if I buy some dry clothes up top?"
"How do you know there's a store up there?"
"If there isn't a store up there, I'll pay somebody for their dry clothes."
"If there isn't a store up there and nobody wants to sell their clothes, I'll pay someone to drive me
back to Seattle."
"That's ridiculous. If you'd brought a swim suit, that would be one thing. No."
By now, I was wading in the water, sans shirt and shoes. Rather cold water, I'll add. "Just go ahead and swim; I'll come back in a couple hours and pick you up." Needless to say, the choice was a no-brainer: forgo an impulsive act or further anger a close friend. I chose the former, but didn't speak up immediately. Rather, I held my tongue (it felt kinda slimy and wet) and reflected on this curious, uncomfortable dynamic. We sat for a few more minutes, staring silently in opposite directions. Finally, she tersed "I'm ready to leave." I answered "I no longer feel like swimming." She rose, turned around, and started walking back. Well, climbing back. A minute or two later, I calmly began re-dressing. No, I thought to myself, I can't remember the last head-to-head, championship (near) fight I'd had with a friend. Nor could I tell what those around us were perceiving. We weren't shouting nor even talking loudly. But body language speaks volumes, as evidenced by the young man with the girlfriend who was sitting beside us. When Sara left, he turned and asked "are you on a first date?" Priceless.
Copyright 2000 by Michael J. Legeros
Spot an error on this page? Please let me know, just click my name below...
Copyright 2020 by Michael J. Legeros