Chapter 4: Dinner With the Hippies.
Sitting at the table next to
me were two American girls. I
guessed, wrongly, that they were from Santa Cruz. They overheard the conversation with the casting director.
ÒThat happen to you often?Ó
they giggled.
ÒEh, not too much.Ó
After sitting by myself all
day, I welcomed the company. I
could tell from their hair, their backpacks, and their attitude that if they
knew me they wouldnÕt really like me, or my politics (lack thereof?). But, any company at this point was good
company.
We did the standard, ÒWhere
are you from? What you doing in India?
What do you think so far?Ó etc.
They told me that they were
waiting for their plane, which they had to make sure to be at the airport at
10pm for. It was only about
8pm. I had been waiting all day
for 8pm to roll around. Once 8pm
hit, I told myself, I have to go get dinner. And I fucking hate getting dinner alone.
Oddly enough they said, ÒWe
have been sitting here playing cards waiting for 8pm to roll around. That is when we get up and go for
dinner.Ó
ÒWhy donÕt we all go?"
I immediately had the
feeling that I better not even vaguely give them the thought that I was
treating them as any object of desire.
Not to say that I was treading on that path, but they were sweating
Feminist from all of their pores.
I knew that if I opened a door for them, unknowingly gave them a Come
Hither look, accidentally moved my eyes in any direction that may be
interpreted as CheckinÕ Dem Out, or any other accidental Male vs. Woman
exchange I would get pounced.
When we found a suitable
restaurant and poked at the menus, they huddled together and counted their
rupees. They were being very
selective and avoiding anything that might kill their Last Day Budget. I had been treated to a lot while in
India, and I felt a general sense of guilt. I wanted to get these two kids dinner. Not because I was a guy who thought
that they were cute. Just because
I knew that I had much more money than they did, it was little skin off my
back, and getting dinner for people (when I can) is a subtle pleasure of
mine. I knew that I was walking a
tight rope on this one. Tip one
way, and I was sexual predator.
Tip the other and I just fall off looking like an ass. It was very obvious that they didnÕt
want to be helped out by some man.
ÒEh, if you guys want I would be happy to help out with dinner,Ó I said
under my breath in a Ôjust in case you need helpÕ sort of way.
They looked up, side glanced
me, and gave me the DonÕt Even Think About It, Mister look. I
shrugged it off in the Guess You DonÕt Need To Take My Charity, And That Is
OK sort of way.
From their conversation I
knew why I thought they might come from Santa Cruz. It is because they should have come from Santa Cruz. When I told them I am a musician, they asked what my
political message was. Political
message? What a waste of
notesÉ Politics is, well, for
people like you. They were in
India to live in a Buddhist commune in a foreign exchange program. The smaller one had Virgin
dreadlocks. I figured that they
were just a few months old, tops.
I was right. ÒThey are only three months old.Ó And I bet she put honey, dog shit, and
herbs in them. She also had the obligatory
Dread Ring. Or two. Three or four maybe?[1]
During our quiet dinner of
commercially available benign conversation, I got the vague sense of what Caucasian
women dealt with in India. I
thought I had it bad, but at least the eyes donÕt usually make me feel slightly
in danger. I could see eyes
painting them with colors that made me uncomfortable.
When dinner was over and the
waiter put the check in front of me, I just paid for it with less than no
fanfare. Screw it. Let them just take the fucking favor
and shove it. I made sure to do it
as completely Asexual as possible as I recalled blowing any Does He Like Boys
or Girls ItÕs So Hard To Tell These Days cushion. I mentioned something about an X-girlfriend and I could hear
their faces twist into a frown. It
was just a benign story, but I could hear the gears on the outside of their
head grinding to the tune of, ÒGreat, he subtly dropped that he likes girls and he oh-so-quietly made sure we knew that the girl he
mentioned was his X to ensure we
knew how single he is.Ó
I played the game well in
the end. I just shrugged it off
like a quarter in a cup and shook their hands while they got into their rik heading
for the airport. They quite
nicely, happily and honestly thanked me for dinner.