. . . some green leaf lettuce. Really.
“What do you want for your birthday?” Matt asked the other day.
“Some green leaf lettuce!” I said.
He went to the IGA. Only a few heads of wilting iceberg lettuce were on display. We went to the local cafe, where the menu is centered around a salad bar/hot buffet. I never order the salad bar because it lacks greens. But that day, we noticed the white lettuce was sitting atop a garnish of green leaves of lettuce. Still, it wasn’t enough for me to want to order the salad bar. We sat drinking our coffee for awhile when Matt looked up.
The place was empty of customers. The waitress left the room. The cook left the room.
Matt got out of his seat without a word, walked over to the salad bar, looked around like a kid who’s about to raid the cookie jar and . . . pulled a single leaf of green lettuce out from under the iceberg mix. A smile crept across his face as he ripped it in half and came back to our table. He handed me my half as he shoved his half in his mouth.
I tried not to giggle as I ate my portion of this birthday wish come true. We checked one another’s teeth for any sign of green so we wouldn’t be busted by the waitress when she came back to make her rounds and I realized that I am in love.