Avocados

It wasn’t until we were driving home from dinner that my wife Diane told me that the chips and guacamole I had been eating hadn’t been meant for the entire table.

“Deb and Gary ordered it for themselves when you were in the restroom.”

“What!?  But I thought that everybody was…”

“Nope, just you.”

“Oh no!”

Diane slouched casually down in the passenger seat and kicked her feet up on the glove box.

“It was strange,” she said.  "Your face was so red and contorted.  It was like you were eating just to see if you could eat everything.“

In a cold sweat I thought back to the dinner and realized that my wife’s description was spot on.  Not only had I partaken in the chips and guacamole, I had been attacking them like a starved animal.  At one point I was even rhythmically alternating between hands the way a boxer might attack a heavy bag.  Left chip, Right chip. Dip, dip.  Eat, eat.

"You couldn’t have told me?” I asked weakly.

“We were trying to tell you without making a big deal out of it,” said Diane.  "I called your phone a couple times and I know Greg was trying to kick you.“

"That was Greg?  Christ, I thought that was you!”

And in fact, I HAD noticed the kicking.  Thinking it had been a rare moment of erotic spontaneity from my wife, I had returned the ‘kick’ by removing a dress shoe and pinning my opponent’s leg with a single stocking foot before sliding my toes inquiringly up and along the length of the accompanying inner-thigh.

“How did Greg seem when we left?” I asked.

After Diane went to bed that evening, I sat awake sipping whiskey sours and replaying the evening’s events in my head.  It wasn’t until after my third or so drink that I decided it was best to simply call up Deb and Gary to apologize and explain the miscommunication.  But I was unprepared!

“Hello?” answered a groggy voice.

“Avocados,” I slurred.

“Who is this?”

I hung up.  

The next morning it dawned on me that probably every single phone had Caller ID.  I wanted to ask Diane if Deb and Gary had Caller ID, but in a way that seemed casual so as not to reveal my actions from the night before.

Over coffee I said, “So last night Barb was telling me that Deb and Gary don’t have Caller ID.  Haha!  Man!  Is that even true?”

“Why would Barb say that?”

“She just did, goddammit!”