“I’m not speaking any English,” I told Sheldon, pulling around the tight turn.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
We passed fifteen parking spots, all of them with the “Private Parking Only” sign hanging right there, mocking us.
“I mean,” I told him, “that as soon as we step into the mall, I’m speaking gibberish. You’ll have to translate for me.”
“This has something to do with Discordia Day, doesn’t it?” he asked.
I told him, “Tufat thu sof funta.”
We found a spot near the top floor, hopped out and I made my car bark. Then, we went into the mall in search of a book. The Borders had what I wanted, and we paused to see if they had any of learsfool‘s books. Sadly, they did not.
“I liked The Crane,” Sheldon said.
“Ho ha, fanna do sothshin,” I told him. He nodded in agreement.
At the register, the nice lady asked me, “Did you find everything you wanted?”
“Tanna thay vanthu sochek.”
“He said, ‘Yes,'” Sheldon explained.
The lady smiled and told me to have a good day.
“Toova!” I said with a wide smile, waving goodbye.
“You’re insane,” Sheldon told me.
“Batha soo batha,” I told him.
We were both hungry and decided Johnny Rockets would be a good place to stop. We walked in and one of the waitresses spotted us right away. We gestured at the bar. She nodded with a warm smile and we sat.
“She doesn’t remember me,” Sheldon told me.
“Buh thah?” I asked.
“Right after my divorce, I came in here and decided I wanted a burger and a shake. And she was my waitress.”
“Vrendi, vrendi,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “She is cute.
But we didn’t get that waitress. We got another one. Also high on the cute factor.
“Hi,” she said. She had those big brown eyes… the kind that make me go vootha nova.
“Vootha nova,” I said. I turned to Sheldon. “Kachi,” I told him.
He laughed, pointing at me, talking to the waitress. “He can’t speak English.”
I shook my head. “Novata.”
She laughed. “That’s okay. I feel the same way sometimes.”
She took our orders and went away, bringing back Sheldon’s Coke and my Vanilla Coke. We watched her. Young, very young. “This is her first night,” Sheldon said. I nodded in agreement.
She was so determined and so frustrated. Learning the job in a rush of Saturday night whackery. And she had those brown eyes. And that smile.
She brought our food and talked with us a little longer, even though she was busy. And when she did, she laughed at me and my complete lack of language. Or, at least, a language that could be translated correctly.
“Bootha doon,” I told her.
She nodded. “Yep,” and walked away with a pretty smile on her lips. And at that moment, somewhere in the back of my brain, a little voice told me that when I got the check I sho…
“… uld write her a letter dude,” Sheldon told me.
I nodded.
When the bill came, I got the pen, signed the check and left a small note. It read something like this:
Dear A_________,
Due to a complicated prank/dare, I cannot speak English to you tonight, but I’d like to speak English to you tomorrow. Sheldon and I are going to a BBQ and we’d like you to come along. If you’d like to come, give me a call. If not, that’s cool, too. It was nice not-talking to you. I hope you have a better night.
Take care,
John
We left the building and I said, “Damn, she was cute.”
“She’s gonna call,” Sheldon said.
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “She won’t.”
We drove around LA, stopped at Pinks, waited in line, talked about band stuff. Discordia Day was almost over and I needed a hot dog.
And right there, in front of Pinks, my phone rang.
Hello?
~ Is this John?
Yeah.
~ Hi. This is A________.
Oh, hi!
blah blah blah blah
“She’s coming to the BBQ,” I told Sheldon, hanging up my phone.
“Of course she is, dude. It took balls to do what you did. Women love that.”
I shrugged. “She could be insane.”
“That isn’t the point,” Sheldon said, using his height to emphasise what he said next. “She called. You gave her your number and she called.”
The wakeup stick slammed me in my face. “Buthudha,” I said.
Sheldon smiled. “Exactly.”
