My One Orange Bowl

“Do you love me?”

“I do enjoy spending time with you.”

That isn’t the exact words used, but it is a rough summary of the conversation. And I don’t think she was that surprised by my response, because there was a small pile of my things already sitting on her kitchen counter.

This was last summer. I had only been to her place a handful of times, but I had managed to leave a book, a deck of cards, and a large orange plastic salad bowl. We didn’t exactly call off the relationship at that time, but we agreed to continue in a diminished capacity. We also agreed that when I left I would take the salad bowl.

I left. I walked home on a pleasant summer night carrying my book, deck of cards, and large orange plastic salad bowl. I hit Capitol Avenue, my street. My house: three blocks to the right. The bar: four blocks to the left. It was a Sunday night. Probably not many people were out. I could even sit in the bar and read my book. After all I was already carrying it. I went left.

I got to the bar and calmly sat my orange bowl inside on the floor to the right of the door. The place was mostly empty, but I noticed two girls sitting at the bar. The one closest to me looked like she might be cute. (She was; they both were.) And it wasn’t like I was seeing anyone. I went to the adjacent spot to order my drink.

Her response was favorable and the three of us began chatting. Soon I found myself sitting at a table outside with two attractive single young women. The girls were fun, friendly, witty, loud, and crass. They made me seem like a person that was timid and reserved. (I know many of you find that hard to believe, but you haven’t met these girls.) I was feeling content and mellow that evening and just accepted my role for the night.

The conversation went well enough we decided to continue the evening to a location that had some music playing. I started to leave the bar with the girls, but then had to tell them, “Wait. My bowl.”

How am I supposed to explain that? Two cute girls I just met at a bar. After a couple drinks I’m about to leave with them in their car and I stop to grab a large orange salad bowl. In hindsight I think if I had just told them the whole truth they would have actually been impressed. I’m certain they were not intimidated. But I was feeling content and mellow. I retrieved the orange bowl from the floor of the bar. I had to say something.

“What? I always take it with me when I go out.”