Long Tables, pt. 4

Molly has this problem where she’s a bitch. Like at lunch I asked her to please pass the salt. She was sitting across with her nose in a magazine. All she could manage was nudging the shaker a little with her finger. I had to get up and walk over there for the damn salt. I should mention it’s one of those pretty long tables. I tell you I wanted to knock the tuna casserole into her lap.

I was getting ready to say something about it but she changed the subject. She reminded me again about the dinner party. She said, “I knew you’d forget.”

Then she licked her finger and turned the page. 

She arranged it so a couple of her friends from work would come over with their husbands or whoever. Molly is a customer service rep for cable TV. What she does all day is talk on the telephone. When you call because your picture is all static, it’s her on the other line. That should give you some idea how frustrating it is, talking to her.

I told her I didn’t feel like having people over. I said, “I’m not feeling it.” Molly went into a terrific fit about how I never take her out. She called me cheap and lousy. She asked where’s the romance. Having people over isn’t the same as going out. It’s not romantic. I considered mentioning it. Instead I picked at the green beans.