You Say Arugula, I Say Lettuce by Michelle Elvy

I was surprised when Carrie called. We hadn’t seen each other in years. We’d been high-school friends, sure — the kind you don’t expect to see again after you’ve been  pomp-and-circumstanced down the school stadium steps and the last D-Major chord has drifted out on the breeze. But I’d just had my first baby and she’d had her second, so she called for a mommy’s lunch.

At the upscale yuppy café (“my fave,” she gushed), I ordered a baked stuffed potato (the closest thing to real food on offer) while she drank protein-vitamin-water and pushed sprigs of delicately arranged arugula around her plate.

We caught up: the husband/house/job/childbirth list. She swooned about her offspring, who were home with the au pair, while mine nursed noisily in my lap.

I sought peace in my potato while she carried on about her dullard husband and her sterile McMansion. And her stupid onroad/offroad jogging stroller – the Landrover of strollers. “I prefer my 1970 Buick LeSabre model,” I offered, “which has seen my sisters through five kids. It’s named Blue Betty.” Carrie grimaced. My wee angel farted marvelously.

When she said she could not stay for dessert, I masked my elation as she air-kissed my cheeks goodbye. She sashayed out of the café just as my chocolate mint parfait arrived. I watched her go, musing on the contrast between her perfectly heart-shaped jogger’s ass and the green sprigs of lettuce stuck between her porcelain white teeth.

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6 Comments

Filed under Michelle Elvy

6 responses to “You Say Arugula, I Say Lettuce by Michelle Elvy

  1. My wee angel farted marvelously. Perfect line, perfectly time. I love this.

  2. I love the language in this piece, especially the use of pomp-and-circumstance as a transitive verb (which I’m going to have steal if I ever write a graduation scene).

  3. Oh I just love this. It’s got the wall that we peek over and hope we don’t see something we like. Nice!

  4. Ganymeder

    Ha! Loved it!

  5. Yes, this was great – nasty but sweet too. Blue Betty v. the Landrover of strollers, made me smile the most …

  6. Pingback: Week #22 – The brutality of friends « 52|250 A Year of Flash

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