The Dinner Date (Love & Guilt)
At about 20 past the hour, Love patiently and casually glanced at her watch. She knew better than to expect her dinner date to be timely, but it was getting late even for him, especially considering it involved a free meal. The waiter stopped by again, poured more water and tried not to show his growing concern for this lovely creature and the increasing possibility she could be getting stood up. Knowing this the whole time, Love sat smiling quietly, and confidently tried to reassure him that she was fine even if her guest was a no-show.
Just then the doors burst open and a pitiful buffet of sounds announced her guest’s arrival well before she ever saw him. Love could hear Guilt complain to the hostess with every heavy step he made toward the table. Thankfully she was unable to make out exact words, but could still hear his unrelentingly abrasive tone slowly parade through the restaurant toward her until at last she was graced with his presence.
Guilt didn’t bother to shave for the event or dress up from the look of him, which again came as no surprise. He was sad, sarcastic and slovenly as he glared at Love, and began to cite the excuse for his tardiness. “You would not believe what my kid did to make me late!” he said, letting out a low, long and painful exhale as he sat. After Guilt pulled up his chair and leaned forward, he hunched over his battered and swollen hands that Love noticed had several busted knuckles. “No problem,” replied Love, cutting off the lie before it got any worse. Seeing that their waiter was on the way to the table she asked, “Are you hungry?”
After listening to Love delicately tell the waiter her carefully considered choices, Guilt lowered his menu, leaned in further as if telling a secret and asked, “You’re paying right?” “Yes,” replied Love, “This one’s on me.” A crass and crooked smile broke across Guilt’s face as he began, “Let’s start with your finest single malt scotch, and I’ll take the biggest steak you got, as rare as you’ll serve it!”
Once they were alone again Love got right to the point. “Thank you for meeting me tonight. It seems that we have a misunderstanding to work out.” Guilt looked up confused, “misunderstanding?” “Yes,” Love replied. “From what I hear, you are telling people that you are me, and that I, somehow, am you.” “What?” snorted Guilt. “Who’s telling you that?” “That doesn’t matter,” said Love. “I know you’ve been doing this for a long time, and the problem is that for whatever reason, people are actually believing it, so I have to ask you to stop.” Perhaps due to the scotch or the sudden realization that he was pinched, Guilt dropped the act and blurted out “But we do a lot of good together don’t we?” “No,” replied Love. “Whatever good you claim to do just ends up hurting people and you know it!” “So then what am I supposed to do?” fired back Guilt. “If I don’t act like I’m you, or at least some part of you, then no one will have anything to do with me!” “Well, regardless, I’m going to have to ask you to quit convincing people’s parents, siblings or old friends that you are me.” replied Love. “We both know that I give in abundance and freely, and all you do is take. Now, I do understand that being an emotional king snake of sorts is all you have going for you, but unfortunately your problems are just that, and you and I are nothing alike, so stop it,” Love stated matter-of-factly, while gracefully getting to her feet, and now standing directly in front of Guilt. “Like I said, the meal’s on me, but the idea of watching you eat it is more than I care to endure this evening, so I will be going. Goodnight!” Guilt sank down further into his chair and sneered as Love turned and walked out the door, but not before tipping the waiter and thanking him for his prior concern and wonderful service.