But Not Chicken Pot Piiiiiiiiiiiiie

I'm meeting her at an overrated ice cream joint. Her brother works there. He's awkward but funny. His awkwardness isn't what makes him funny, but it sure helps.

I walk in and she's standing by the counter talking to Brother. It certainly doesn't seem like we haven't seen each other in three months. I was ready to hug her like a long lost friend, but now it seems so unnecessary. She gets ice cream, pumpkin pie ice cream in fact, and rolls her eyes at Brother as he pounds on the cash register with a furrowed brow. He's worked here since August but still doesn't seem to know what button does what. By the look on his face, he's never even seen a button before.

We talk for a while. Get the "so how's college?" schtick out of the way and finally move on to the anecdotes and untraceable stream of consiousness that makes for a satisfying conversation. I'm trying too hard to make jokes. She makes fun of me for it.

Pumpkin pie ice cream doesn't seem to do the trick. After mushing it around for a bit she decides it's gross and throws it out. I guess we're leaving. We wave to Brother and head outside.

So... now what?

I can't make decisions. We stand around for a while. She glares at me.

Fine.

We get in her car and she drives off. Neither of us know what to do, but at least driving makes it seem like one of us had a good idea.

We stop to rent a movie. Monster House is funny. We get that.

If you tie something around a cat's middle it won't walk around, it'll just lie down. This seems to be true, as it's worked everytime I've had both a cat and something tieable lying around. She doesn't believe me. When we arrive at her house she yells for one of her two cats. We end up finding her step dad, instead. He is not a cat. That is probably why he refused to lie down when we tied a string around his belly.

Step Dad shakes my hand with humongously large hands and asks me the required college-related questions from under his humongously large mustache and we eventually move into her home.

Her aunt and uncle are still over from yesterday's Thanksgiving festivities and we exchange "hello"s before moving down to the basement.

Neither of us can get the TV to work. There are nearly twelve thousand remotes and not a one of them seems to make the TV work. We both try each one several times before I decide it's more fun to spin her dog around in an office chair and she decides to just find Step Dad. Step Dad knows everything.

After Step Dad works his magic, Uncle comes downstairs and pulls a beer from the fridge. He jokingly asks if we'd mind if he rode the exercise bike while slurping on his beer and watched with us. We chuckle. The movie begins and I leave Dog to spin by himself and scoot back to the couch. I look over at her to see that her brow is fruzzled. I turn to see what she is fruzzling at.

Uncle is riding the exercise bike and slurping on his beer while watching the movie with us.

Um... really?

But he's wearing a goofy sweater vest and jeans. Exercise bike? While slurping on a beer? While watching the movie? With us?

... Really?

I have to check periodically throughout the film to see if Uncle Sweater Vest is still doing his thing. He always is. Everytime I check, he's definitely right there. Sometimes, I can just hear a little slurp to my left and I know. It saves me some checking.

As the movie ends, Uncle Sweater Vest's four year old son runs downstairs. I did not know this little man even existed, but he apparently has some songs he would love to sing. He jumps up on the couch and proclaims that he will now sing us his Turkey Song.

Turkey Turkey Turkey, Nice And Fat
I Am Going To Eat You
Turkey Turkey Turkey
Gobble Gobble Gobble Gobble
Eat You Turkey
I Will Eat You Turkey
Gobble Gobble Gobble
Not Chicken Pot Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie

He runs back upstairs.

Uncle Sweater Vest follows him. I can't help but bust a gut laughing.

After talking for a bit longer, I realize it's about time for her to drive me back to the car, which was left in the parking lot of the ice cream joint.

It grew considerably dark during the short time we were inside and considerably cooler as well. I even shiver a tiny bit.

I don't say much in the car. She takes a detour to inspect what seems to be a fairly serious car crash near the mall. The car crash is, in fact, quite severe.

We talk about how weird it is trying to meet old friends during these breaks. How boring it seems to be in the larger groups, and how only a few friends really seem worth the effort.

I can't help but smile. I was worth the effort.

She pulls up next to my car. I feel like there's supposed to be a good bye. I wait for one. There isn't one. I unbuckle and start to get out of the car. I thank her for the ride on my way out then pause for what seems like an eternity. I finally turn around and look back at her.

If you get exhaustingly bored tomorrow you should, um... you should give me a call.

She pauses for a while. There really is supposed to be more of a good bye here... why can't I find it?

Yeah. I will.

I head around to get in my car and she drives away.

I hope she calls. It will give me a second chance to tell her that I love her.

Even though I know I won't.