The Italian submarine

My buddy Ben and I were bellied up to the bar last weekend when a much older man stepped into the space right next to me. He ordered another beer and asked the bartender to reuse his glass. I turned to him and complimented him on reducing like that. I heart Mother Earth and had never thought to do that before.

Instead of talking about the environment, the conversation immediately changes to him telling me how beautiful I am and asking if Ben is my boyfriend. I say “yes” and Ben says “no” in unison. The older guy leans in, confused by the conflicting answer we have just supplied him. I give Ben the stank eye, grit my teeth and, under my breath, beg him to get this guy away from me. Ben basically feels like since I will not be sleeping with him, he shouldn’t have to perform any chivalrous actions, like defend my honor to this 60 year old.

"So is she your girlfriend or what?" he presses again.

"Yes she is."

I smiled and mouthed a "thank you" to Ben.

"How much?" the old dude asks.

And without skipping a beat, Ben starts a negotiation with this guy about what a night of passion with me might cost. I totally felt like Demi Moore and believe me, this was a very Indecent Proposal.

"Well that depends on what you are looking for. Lights on? That’s an extra $50 right there; that’s industry standard. Are you looking to video? Because that’s gonna cost you, too. What about a dutch oven? Really the possibilities are endless...are you interested in the Italian submarine?"

Old dude says, "whoa, whatever that is, it sounds fun."

Ben had just made it up - he is insanely quick witted like that. I sat there as these two guys discussed things that would just thrill my parents.

Finally, he told the old guy we had been fighting earlier and needed some alone time to try to patch things up. The would-be Robert Redford went on his way, but not before giving me the universal “call me” sign with his fingers to his pinky and thumb and giving a nice wink to Ben.