Dream

I meet my friend T at Sunset Junction and she suggests we get ice cream at a new shop that's opened there. But I am picky about my ice cream and clearly deceitful to boot because I tell her I'm not hungry, then watch her take off on a bicycle with too-large wheels, and then head to the ice cream place that I like, down the street from the one she suggested. Maybe I do this because I am also a misanthrope and sometimes need to be alone, and realize this in the midst of dates with people.

The ice cream place that I like is minimalist and has a row of different flavors, spread out on a white table. The owner is tall and severe-looking, with glasses. He insists that I do a blind taste test of all flavors before I choose one.

"Blueberry with corn flakes," I say after a taste of the first flavor.

"No, it's turkey fat with blue yarn," he tells me "but you got the blue part right."

I am wrong about every flavor so he won't let me buy the dark chocolate lemon flavor I want.

He also tells me that lemon chocolate is Alice Waters' favorite flavor so he won't sell it.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because of that bad experience Alice and I had in Spain, at La Barca."

I remember La Barca. It is a bar where my housemates and I used to go and get margaritas and nachos before there was a shooting there and we decided to drink wine at home instead. I didn't realize it was in Spain.

"And I also can't sell ice cream because we're closing now. The heater is broken and the film crew fixing it doesn't know what they're doing. I should have listened to Robert Altman," he says, "He told me they're useless at heating and plumbing and I didn't listen."

I nod solemnly, as though I understand. There is a thumping sound underfoot, perhaps the film crew fixing the heater. A gaggle of women in bikinis sit in a hot tub off in a corner. I immediately want to leave. I think about T, how I lied to her and said I didn't want ice cream, even though I really did. Just not at the place she suggested. I also lied because I wanted to be alone and felt smothered by the presence of another. And then I did what I wanted. So maybe I'm not as empathetic and generous as I thought I was.

But now I can validate my bad feelings about myself. And now I don't have to pretend that my character isn't questionable. Because I know it is. And it feels good to be right.