Last night, we had a bunch of friends over for booze and strawberry shortcake. A random collection arrived, including Benji, 3D and Rigazzi. It was awesome. Thus, I awoke this morning hung-over and late for work. I threw some leftover strawberries in a bag, left Benji in the watchful care of Zoe and ran out the door.
Along Lombard, I was delayed by red light after red light. It took me forever to maneuver my way through the Marina and I was beginning to get stressed. I dug through my pile of crap on the passenger seat and found my strawberries, throwing the stems out the window as I ate them.
All of a sudden, I hear, “Excuse me!”
A totally and completely hot guy in the Beamer next to me had rolled down his window and was trying to get my attention. Fabulous! I could already see us at our rehearsal dinner, telling the wacky story of how we met, side by side on Lombard Street.
Delighted, I checked my teeth for strawberry residue, tossed another stem, leaned out the window and smiled. “Hi!”
“Yeah, hi. I don’t want to be an asshole or anything. I just want to say, that’s completely disgusting.”
Oh my god. First of all, how embarrassing. I died sitting in Rhonda the Honda, having no witty retort and no justification. I completely agree. If it were somebody else’s stems, I’d be grossed out too. He sped off before I could explain myself and give him my number, but for the record, they’re completely biodegradable and it’s not like I was tossing Styrofoam cups or old paint thinner. They were strawberry stems!
Deflated and horrified, I drove to work guiltily placing my remaining stems in an old Safeway bag, shocked at how quickly our relationship fell apart. While I’m totally embarrassed, I am none the less confident that hot stem hater will reconsider his harsh words, place a Craigslist Missed Connection and take me to Jardiniere for strawberries and Stags’ Leap…