Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Anything But Roses

It was like a reality t.v. show
The twenty-something couple sitting at the table behind us,
talking about their future.
“I don’t want to have kids any later than thirty-six.
But first I want to travel and just be with you.
I’m not ready for motherhood.”
I almost chocked on my Lard Nar.
I threatened to stab myself in the eyeballs with my chopsticks
if I had to listen to any more of her dribble.
It was nauseating.
She had it all perfectly worked out.
Where they would be,
how they would live,
how many kids.
We could barely decide if we wanted tofu in our Lard Nar
or not,
much less decide on what we were doing for the rest of our lives.
I turned back to look at her.
She had one of those Ivory soap faces,
perfectly white
with mousey blond hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Her lover
was nothing more than a lap dog
agreeing to her every thought.
He was like a mirror
refusing to reflect anything but roses.
When they got outside the restaurant
he grabbed her and they kissed for over a minute.
It was one of those long slow motion kisses,
full of arching backs and bodies.
Her hair blowing in the breeze.
Mouths open and moving.
I watched as two men sitting at a nearby table stopped eating
to watch them kiss.
They couldn’t believe it either.
Neither could the couple next to them.
We all just shook our heads and
then started laughing.
It went on for so long it was absurd.
I wanted to tell the other patrons,
“that’s nothing, if you want something really ridiculous,
just listen to them talk about their plans for the future."
Then they stopped kissing and he took her by the hand and they sauntered off.
Ten to one,
five years from now they won’t even remember
each other’s names.