The Incident With The Steak

Hal could not have known that his dinner date was a vegan, though he did note that Suzanne was scowling as she surveyed the menu. When he recounted the incident to his sister the following day she used it as an instrument to bludgeon him with.

“Good God, Hal,” Beth remonstrated her older brother. “When’re you going to learn to reveal your personality to strangers in layers? You know, feel ‘em out, discover what kind of person they are before giving them a full blast of Hal.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it’s not so much that you ordered a steak that upset Suzanne.”

Hal fussed and fidgeted in the overstuffed armchair. “She seemed awfully goddamn upset to me.”

“It was the way you went about it, Hal,” Beth countered, sneaking a small measure of patience into her tone. “You told the waitress you wanted the steak prepared rare.”

“Yeah. That’s how I like it.”

“You said — and I quote — ‘So rare that the cow’s still moving on the plate and if I don’t hear it moo when I bite into it I’ll be asking for a refund’.”

Hal sat quietly in the chair for a moment, chewing his lower lip. “You’re saying that wasn’t funny?”

Beth settled her yarn and knitting needles in her lap. “No, sweetheart. It wasn’t funny.” She reached across the gulf between them and took one of his hands into her own, patting him reassuringly.

“Aw, Jeez, Beth, you’re so good to me.” After a pause he added: “Mom’s right. I should have married you.”

Beth blinked and exhaled audibly. “Maybe you should take up another language, Hal, perhaps Swahili, so the rest of us don’t have to hear what you’re saying.”