The Day in the Life of So-and-So

    “Let’s go out for ice cream,” I say to Jenna.1

    “No, I’m not in the mood for ice cream,” she responds.2

    “Then what are you in the mood for?” I say impatiently.  I’m bored out of my mind and really just want to get out of the house.3

    “How bout bowling?” she asks.4

    “You know I hate bowling,” I say.  “I despise bowling.  If we go bowling one more time I’m gonna have to shoot myself.”  She knows I hate bowling.  Why the hell did she suggest bowling, for crying out loud?5

    “Jesus!  Relax, Meg!  You’re the one who wants to go out so bad.”6

    “You’re right,” I say, “but I don’t want to go bowling.”7

No immediate response from Jenna.  We sit in silence for a moment.  8

    “Fine, we’ll go out for ice cream,” she says with a bit of resentment.  I pick up on this.9

    “No, I don’t want to go out for ice cream,” I reply.  Quite frankly, I’m pissed that she feels resentment about going out for ice cream.  It’s not like I put a gun to her head and said, “Ice cream is your only option.  Take it or die.”  I just didn't want to go bowling for crying out loud.  She knows I hate bowling.10

    “You just said let’s go out for ice cream!” she jumped back.11

    “Yeah, but I can tell you don’t want to go out for ice cream, and you’ll just be mad the whole time and blame it on me and say that we always go where I wanna go, and suddenly I’m the bad guy cause I ’t want to go bowling!  I don’t care what the hell we do, just pick something!”12

    “We’re going out for ice cream,” she said.  There was no turning back now.  She said it herself.  I could feel the tension in the room.  Giving in then was smart on Jenna’s part.  Plus, I was satisfied cause it was Jenna’s final decision.  She couldn’t blame it on me.13

    We hopped into my car to go to the ice cream place.  For some reason people seem to be interested in what kind of car other people drive.   It seems to be proper etiquette to name the make and model of car when the word is even mentioned.  Unfortunately, I know nothing about cars.  When someone asks me what kind of car I drive, I say blue.14

The ride down was strangely silent.  No talk of school, no talk of work, no talk of guys.  The silence was awkward, but breaking it would be like shattering glass.  I wasn’t going to be responsible for a broken window.15

Finally we made it to the ice cream place.  It ’t take long to decide my order.16

    “I’ll have a double cookie dough sundae,” I say.17

    “Uh, I’ll take a chocolate ice cream cone,” Jenna orders.18

Once our ice cream was ready, we took a seat at the booth in the far right corner—the usual spot.  Neither of us had said a word to the other since before we left.  We sat there with our ice cream.  19

    Jenna took a lick of her chocolate cone.  She sat there, looking at a small puddle of vanilla ice cream left not long ago by a customer. Jenna took another lick.  She sat there for a moment, then stated, “I’m not in the mood for ice cream.”20

I look at her.  Just look at her. 21