Blogger's Note: In 2011, DC Comics relaunched its universe. They wanted to re-imagine the characters and to modernize their personalities and their costumes. When the announcement was made, I wondered how they were going to pull off this stunt. They have 52 titles in their "universe", and I didn't understand how they were going to start all of these superheroes off at ground zero. How could Batman put on his cape and cowl for the first time in his comic, while Superman was just getting settled into his new job at the Daily Planet, and yet, somehow or another, they were both fighting side-by-side with other heroes as a team in the Justice League? Did that mean that the comics weren't running concurrent? How could they manage some epic crossovers if these titles weren't happening at the same time?
But they did something that I thought was ingenious. They started all of the titles five years later. Such a resourceful idea would solve so many problems for us obsessed with continuity. DC purposefully left a gap. The missing time could be filled with all manner of problematic scenarios. How did Green Lantern know that Superman was weak to kryptonite? oh... he learned that during the missing 5 years. How did the Flash and Batman know where the Fortress of Solitude was? oh.... they learned that during the missing 5 years. And so on and so forth...
Not only did this give them a back door to some of the toughest connivances, this ruse also left open a surplus of "flashback" stories. Now, I need an idea like this.
Our story has topped the first hill on our trek. Our "How We Met" story has already told "How We Met." Phase 1 is complete. So now on to Phase 2 which I think I'll call our "How We Fell in Love" story. So I have to narratively shift gears.
And shifting gears isn't easy. I mean I could pick up the story right where we left off. But the day after "The Pollock Joke" would just be the drab lethargy of nursing a hangover. Even if I were to pick up at our first "healthy" day after the last chapter, you'd still just be watching the grass grow. I just don't think I'm creative enough to make those early days interesting or humorous.
For the first time since I started writing this story, I literally pulled out a pen and paper. I started outlining Phase 2. And I started with the last chapter in this segment and worked backwards because I know how this part is going to end. I just don't know how in the hell it's going to begin. Not to mention, this happened nearly seven years ago (damn, has it been that long already?). I needed to get things chronologically ordered lest I'm guilty of one of those continuity fouls that I'm always preaching against.
I've already used so many of my good ideas during Phase 1 that I feel I've raised the bar beyond my capabilities. I've got the keys to this bird jingling in my head, and I'm approaching the runway with childlike uncertainty. So, strap in and hang on. I know where we're going, and I'll get us there if I can just get this damn thing off the ground. I'm just going to push this and pull that.. ..what's that? I'm not clear for take off? And turn this thing off. Who's that out there on the wing? Oh, it's those luggage guys! They sure look excited about something! Guess I'll hit the throttle now... hold my beer and watch this...
"What do you want?"
Lisa always yelled on the phone. As comfortable as she could be in social situations, she could be just as uncomfortable with modern technology. She had a blunt way about her that could leave you laughing and tormented with a single sentence. Lisa was usually so loud and boisterous that it was impossible not to trust her. When she answered her phone with a snappy question, I wasn't offended. I knew that Lisa was just being Lisa.
"Could you do me a favor?" I asked meekly.
"Well, I knew you weren't calling to chitchat. Like I said... what do you want?" I could detect the humor in her voice and proceeded accordingly.
"Could you stop at Huck's on your way to work?" I asked.
"What do you need from Huck's?"
"You know those flowers they sell up by the register? Could you pick up a bouquet of those, and I'll pay you back when you get to work. I'm running late or I'd get them myself." I glanced at my watch to affirm the information; once I saw the time, my gas pedal foot got heavier.
"Who're the flowers for?" Lisa prodded. I knew that one was coming. I decided avoiding an answer would be futile.
"They're for Joanna. She was telling me yesterday that today is International Women's Day. Apparently, they celebrate in Poland by buying women flowers. I figure since she's so far from home, it'd be a nice gesture."
"Awww, Duane. That's nice. Of course I will!" she yelled.
"Hey, thanks Lisa. I owe you one."
When I hung up, my mind wandered to the night before. Stacey had suggested that Joanna make us a typical Polish dinner; she wanted to see what their food was like. We all gathered at Stacey's house where we anxiously sampled Polish cuisine.
She had started the evening with barszcz which is a brothy, beet soup. I'm not a picky eater; however, beets are just about the only food I don't like. I never told her that. Instead, I politely thanked her for the soup and ironed myself to the task of swallowing the starter. Neon purple liquid pooled onto my spoon and laboriously traveled to my mouth like a dose of reptile blood. I held the sampling behind a gritted smile as she asked me what I thought of it...
...and much to my pleasant surprise, I liked it.
Now, truth is, I wouldn't go so far as to say I liked it, but I could eat it. It wasn't horrible. New potatoes and a smokey, bacon flavor masked the wretched taste of beets and made the job of finishing the appetizer much easier.
The main course was much better than the kickoff. A pork kotlet is basically what it sounds like. It's a pork cutlet hammered thin and fried. She had teamed it with mizeria, which is a salad of cucumbers and sour cream, and mashed potatoes. Once I had finished off the last morsel of food on my plate, I looked around and saw that Stacey and her husband had done the same. The Polish girl could cook!
After dinner, we all sat around drinking beer and doing random shots of tequila. It was two o'clock in the morning by the time we had adjourned, and the realization that I was going to be headed to work in a few hours dreadfully strummed on my responsibility chords.
We had been doing a lot of this sort of thing over the past couple of weeks. Joanna and I would rendezvous after work with any combination of Matt, Stacey, Crystal, or Chris or anyone else from the buffet that might be up for effervescent beer or barmy laughter or stoic conversation.
"When I was in Puerto Rico, I did banquets of two thousand people every day. This is nothing." Like sludge in my spokes, the bane of Enrique's voice cut through my pleasant thoughts as I drifted from the clouds to my work station. The screech of a sliding table was followed by the clap of chair legs striking a wood floor. Apparently, he was busy in the adjoining steakhouse restaurant setting up for a large volume of expected business.
"Who do you think you're talking to?" I recognized the rebuttal as belonging to Ralph, the lead steward. Ralph was the only person in the buffet that stood as tall as Enrique; he was well respected as a hard worker and for having little tolerance for bullshit. The deep resonance of his voice was followed by his trademark, hearty laughter. "How about you get your lazy ass out of Dream Land and help me move these tables? You can't even set up for two hundred without taking five breaks and you think I'm gonna believe you can handle two thousand? Now, that's good!"
"Pfft!" Enrique rounded the corner from the steakhouse into my work station carrying a mostly empty glass. Obviously headed to the Mountain Dew, I ducked out of his way. I smiled to myself as I could still hear Ralph laughing at Enrique's spurious claim.
After filling his glass, Enrique began returning to the steak house with his refreshment. He paused as he passed me. In a low, dagger voice, he addressed me. "You and Joanna sure are hanging out a lot," he said.
I nodded and smiled politely, but didn't say anything. I swung around him and busied myself by adding sugar to the tea urn. Peripherally, I could still see him standing there debating on pursuing the conversation. After an awkward moment, he continued back to the steakhouse where Ralph greeted him with a sarcastic, "Two thousand! Now that's good..."
"Here you go, Duane!" Lisa's rambunctious announcement paired with her arrival detoured me from potential ire. She handed me a colorful bouquet of flowers; I reached for my wallet. "How much was it?" I asked her.
As I pulled my wallet out, she pushed my arm away. "Don't worry about it," she challenged.
"You can't be serious. They're from me!" I rebuked.
"That's right. They're from you." Reluctantly, I returned my wallet to my back pocket. I could have countered, but I knew Lisa well enough to know how fruitless that would have been. She smiled triumphantly and went to work.
I didn't waste any time. Peeking around the corner, I spotted Joanna concentrating on her opening duties at the hostess station. Poised and winsome, I held the flowers behind my back and energetically strode to the Polish girl.
She looked up from her work. Innocent of any conspiracies, she could see by my mischievous expression that I was up to something. "What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.
"Aw, nothin'," I coyly uttered.
She appeared unbelieving. Incapable of maintaining the ruse, I produced my surprise from behind my back wearing a cheesy smile. "Happy Women's Day," I offered.
In this day and age of modern fashion and flashy jewelry, where name-brand handbags and clothes with glamorous labels adorn the trend-setters, I possess one pearl of wisdom that I'll share with any man that hasn't already learned this lesson. Never, ever, ever underestimate the power and influence that a simple bouquet of flowers has over women.
Joanna's face brightened like the sun after a storm. A smile that I had grown to love stretched across her face and illuminated her features with a breath of joy and gratitude. Her blue eyes, focusing from the flowers to me, were now brilliantly hued by the arrangement. "Thank you," she said at last.
I beamed with pride, suddenly realizing exactly how great an idea this had been. Turning around, I spotted Lisa peeking around the corner of the station, delightfully beaming. We shared a smile of collusion as I returned to the station.
Later that day, after the lunch rush dissipated, I spotted Joanna busy rolling silverware. I took the opportunity to explain to her how I had special ordered the rare flowers from Italy, and I had been hoping that the courier would be able to safely extract them without killing them. She continued to smile as her eyes clearly stated that she knew that I was full of shit.
"You picked a good day to bring me flowers," she finally said.
"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" I asked.
"My boss is being a jerk. He's pissed because I'm behind on some of my paperwork. He doesn't like me; I can't stand him," she explained.
"What's his name? I'll have him killed," I joked.
"Raul. He's from Ireland. I can't even stand to hear him talk. He's the reason I had to come here while all of my friends are in Destin. I cried when he tell me I have to come here," Joanna confessed.
"An Irishman named Raul? Even sounds like a jerk!" I consoled.
"Usually he gives me shit because of nothing. For the first time, I actually am behind on some paperwork. Oh, well, I'll get it done tomorrow..." Joanna continued.
"Oh yeah, speaking of tomorrow, I was gonna ask you if you'd eat with me tomorrow night..." I began.
"Eat with you?"
"Yeah. Do you like crab legs?" I asked.
"Eww, not really. I do not eat seafood."
"Well, come with me anyway. It's all-you-can-eat crab legs on Wednesday nights at Whaler's Catch; I hate eating by myself. Come with me and I'll buy you dinner. They have other things besides crab legs. Oh, and they have beer."
"Oh. Ok. Well, then I come."
(to be continued...)
Continue our "How We Fell in Love" story:
Chapter 6 - The Catfish Revelation
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