Bream Gives Me Hiccups (2 page)

THE WHISKEY BLUE BAR AT THE W HOTEL

Last night, Mom took me to a bar called the Whiskey Blue Bar, which sounds like a fun blue place but is actually a scary dark place where drunk people wear lots of makeup and pretend like they're happy by talking loudly.

Mom had a date with a guy she called her “Widower Friend.” “Widower” means your wife died and “Friend,” when Mom says it about a man, means someone rich who Mom is trying to marry. I never get to go on dates with Mom, but Mom wanted me to meet her Widower Friend because she wanted to show him what a good mom she can be to his two daughters, who no longer have a mother.

The Widower Friend didn't know I was coming when he asked to meet Mom at the Whiskey Blue Bar, and since I am not old enough to go to a bar, Mom said that we had to
pretend to be staying at the W Hotel. I told Mom that I didn't want to lie to the hotel people, but Mom said it was okay in this case because it was just a white lie, which I guess is a lie that white people are allowed to say without feeling guilty.

Since Mom wanted to show the man how good she was with children, I knew she would be nice to me the whole night, and when the man walked in, Mom put her arm around me, which felt strange because she never does that and I never noticed how cold and bony her hands are.

When we all sat down, the man said, “Didn't know you'd be taking your son here.” And Mom squeezed my shoulder again and said, “I just can't bear to be away from this guy. I love kids.” I knew that Mom was going to lie about liking children but I thought she would probably think of a more creative way to do it.

The waitress came to our table and knelt down in a weird way like she wanted to show us her breasts. She was wearing a short black skirt and was really beautiful, except up close. She said, “What can I get you folks tonight?”

Mom said that she wanted a Strawberry Mojito and asked the Widower Friend in a kind of babyish voice, “Is that totally girly of me?” The Widower Friend smiled and blushed in a way that made me think he would have preferred to actually be on a date with a young girl instead of an old woman doing a baby voice. Then the Widower ordered his drink in a really serious voice, like it was important to get all the details right: “Dry Tanq Martini. Twist of lemon. Stirred. Don't bruise the gin.” The waitress nodded very seriously and I suddenly thought that it was so strange to have a place that just
makes drinks. Since they only sell one thing, they have to take it very seriously, and I guess no one ever tells them that what they're doing is not an important job.

Then the waitress showed me her breasts and asked, “And what can I get for you, little man?” Mom asked the waitress to make me a Shirley Temple, which I didn't want because it's named after a dead little girl named Shirley, but I decided not to say anything. Then Mom said, “Mix it weak, he's driving tonight.” And the three adults laughed even though Mom's joke was a lie and also not funny.

When the drinks came, Mom finished hers kind of too quickly and ordered another one. The man sipped his slowly, which meant he probably didn't like Mom, and I just tried to fish out the cherry from the bottom of my drink because I was hungry.

The more Mom drank, the more she asked about the Widower's wife. I could tell that he didn't want to talk about his wife because he would change the subject, but Mom said weird things like, “Did Debbie ever try Cedars-Sinai Hospital? Because my friend Joyce is an amazing endocrinologist over there.” I think Mom just wanted to show the man that she had a friend who was an important doctor, but because the wife had already died it seemed like a weird thing to say. The man seemed a little surprised, and I thought that maybe he was trying not to cry, and then he said kind of quietly, “We never tried Cedars-Sinai.”

Normally Mom would be embarrassed for saying something so dumb, but because she was drunk, she didn't realize that she made the man upset. So instead of apologizing, Mom
said, “I've been friends with Joyce since college. She's brilliant. And actually very well-read.” The man just nodded.

Mom said she had to go “freshen up,” which meant she had to go poop because alcohol makes Mom poop, and she left me alone with the guy. It was a little strange to be alone with him because I think he didn't really like that I was on his date. And then I couldn't stop thinking about his dead wife either and I just tried to not say anything about it, but I got so nervous that I said, “I'm sorry that your wife died from cancer.” I knew it was the wrong thing to say but I couldn't get it off my mind and sometimes accidents happen even with talking. He said, “Thanks.” And then Mom came back and I could tell that she must have pooped a lot because her face seemed relaxed.

When Mom sat down she said, “Ready for round three, Mr. Mister?” which meant she wanted to drink more alcohol with the man, but I could tell that the man just wanted to go home. I also wanted to go home but I knew that Mom wanted to stay so I didn't say anything. But the man looked at his watch and said something like, “I'd love to stay, but the girls are probably up worrying about me,” which seems like something a normal parent would say, especially since his girls don't have a mom. This made me like the Widower Friend.

The man walked us to our car and gave Mom a hug, which Mom kind of held for a long time even though the man tried to pull away.

On the way home, I could tell that Mom was upset with the date and that maybe she thought it was partly my fault. I could also tell that Mom was drunk because she was driving
all over the highway and we almost got into an accident with a man who rolled down his window and yelled at Mom in Spanish. Then Mom yelled something mean about Mexican people and I started to cry because the man kept yelling and it scared me even though I couldn't understand the words he was saying. Sometimes the things that are scariest are the ones you don't understand. That's why I'm giving the Whiskey Blue Bar 136 out of 2000 stars.

TCBY

Last night, Mom let me choose a restaurant and I chose TCBY, which stands for The Country's Best Yogurt. I know you're not supposed to brag and it's wrong to say that you have the best yogurt in the country, but Mom always says if you want something hard enough, you can get it. And since TCBY wants to have the best yogurt so much that they made it their name, maybe they do have the best yogurt.

Mom also let me take a friend and I chose Matt, who now likes to be called Matthew. Mom always calls Matthew my “little friend,” which seems strange because Matthew's taller than me. He's also taller than Mom and I think she doesn't like him, but I think that's just because Matthew and I have a good friendship and Mom doesn't have any real friendships
and Dad hates her and he said so in front of me two separate times before he left.

When I asked if we could pick up Matthew on the way to TCBY, Mom sighed loudly and said, “It would be easier for everyone involved if he just met us there.” I thought it was a strange thing to say because the only people involved were us and Matthew and he lives on the way to TCBY. But I didn't argue and Matthew rode his bike and met us in the parking lot.

When Mom and I saw Matthew, he ran up to us and gave us both a hug, which is something Matthew has started doing a lot. I like it because I like when people hug me, but Mom kind of pulled back because she's not used to people touching her because no one ever does.

TCBY has a lot of flavor options, which makes me think they're really trying hard to be the best. I wanted Mom and Matthew to think that I made a good choice in going to TCBY so I said, “Wow, look at how many different flavors they have,” and then Mom said in a sarcastic voice, “Thou doth protest too much, TCBY!” and Matthew and I looked at each other like we were trying not to laugh because what Mom said made no sense.

Matthew ordered a Mountain Blackberry Yogurt. He said that he got it because it's the most interesting color, which is a kind of light purple, but which Matthew called “mauve.” “Mauve” is a word I never heard before and hearing new words is one of the reasons I like Matthew. When I asked why he didn't get the flavor he liked the most, he said he thought that all the flavors probably tasted the same and so it was best
to get something that was “pretty to look at.” Mom rolled her eyes two times: when Matthew said “mauve” and when Matthew said “pretty to look at.”

The woman behind the counter asked Matthew what he wanted for toppings and he said Blueberries and Cherries. And then the woman said, “You just want two fruits?” Then Mom said, “Yup! Two fruits for my two little fruits!” And then Mom laughed in a cackling way that made everyone uncomfortable. When Mom finally stopped laughing, she said, “Sorry, I just couldn't help myself,” and then we felt uncomfortable again.

When the woman asked me what I wanted, I decided to get the same thing as Matthew because he thought about his order in such an interesting way.

Mom ordered a cup of Dutch Chocolate Yogurt and asked if the chocolate was really shipped in from the Netherlands. The girl said she didn't know but that she could check. Then Mom told her not to bother and said that she'd get a cup of Dutch Chocolate because it's “so decadent.” But I could tell by the way that Mom asked about the Netherlands and how she said “so decadent” that she was making fun of TCBY for being not fancy, but the girl behind the counter didn't know Mom's sense of humor so she said something real like, “It's one of our classic flavors.” And Mom said, “Oh, it sounds like a
real classic
.”

When the woman asked if Mom wanted toppings, Mom said, “Oh boy! Where to begin? What does your sommelier think of the Butterfinger Pieces?” But since the woman didn't realize Mom was making fun of TCBY, she said, “Butterfinger Pieces are really popular.” Mom said, “Oh, I'll bet,” and laughed again.

Then Matthew and I looked at each other in a secret way because we thought it was weird how two people could have the same conversation but one of them is making fun of it and the other one is taking it seriously. It also made me feel bad for the TCBY woman because she didn't know she was being made fun of by Mom, which is sadder than someone who does know they're being made fun of because at least those people can fight back.

After a few bites of the Mountain Blackberry Yogurt, I got brain freeze and it hurt really bad. Mom said that brain freeze is not a real thing and that I should stop complaining, but Matthew told me to relax and to put my tongue to the roof of my mouth and lick. He demonstrated by showing me his tongue licking the roof of his mouth and then he put my head back and told me to open my mouth. But when I opened my mouth with my head back, Mom got really frantic and said, “Jesus Christ, you two, get a room!”

Mom ate a few bites of her yogurt, which had a lot of Butterfinger Pieces on it, but I could tell that she didn't like it, which I kind of expected because she ordered almost all of it sarcastically. At first I felt bad for Mom that she was eating something she didn't like, but then I realized that Mom could have gotten what me and Matthew got, which was delicious and pretty to look at. Instead, she chose to be mean and that's why she got something disgusting.

In a way, Matthew is a lot like TCBY. A few weeks ago, right after he changed his name from Matt to Matthew, he started calling me his best friend. I thought it was strange at first because I didn't consider him my best friend. I liked Todd
and Cara as much as I liked Matthew. But the more Matthew
called
me his best friend the more I actually
felt
like his best friend and the more I liked him and the less I liked Todd and Cara. So I guess Matthew is like TCBY because they both said they were the best at something even before the other person agreed. I know it sounds like Matthew and TCBY are trying to have relationships in reverse, but I like to think of everything happening together at the same time.

Mom is the opposite of Matthew and TCBY. She never says that she's a good mother. In fact, every time she talks about being a mother, she says excuses like, “Lord knows I wouldn't win mother of the year,” or “God knows I've made my share of mistakes.” But TCBY says they're the country's best yogurt and Matthew says he's my best friend, and I guess, in a way, it forces them to try harder to be the best. But Mom never says she's the best mother so maybe she doesn't feel any pressure to be one. Maybe she actually feels pressure to
lose
mother of the year or make even
more
mistakes.

All I know is that I really like Mountain Blackberry Yogurt with Blueberries and Cherries and I really like Matthew. And Mom is angry and divorced from Dad and she doesn't like Dutch Chocolate with Butterfinger Pieces even though, out of all the options, that's the one she chose.

I know that I want to be more like Matthew and TCBY because when you say you're good at something it makes you try harder to be better and when you say you're bad at something it makes you try harder to be worse. That's why I'm giving TCBY 1954 out of 2000 stars.

ROBERT FROST ELEMENTARY SCHOOL CAFETERIA

A weird thing happened at school today that the adults were really proud of but that the students thought was stupid. I don't have a total opinion yet but I think it's probably somewhere in between.

Our school was chosen to be part of a new program called “Healthy Lunches, Healthy Choices.” In this program, famous chefs make school lunches that are supposed to be healthy but also good tasting. I know these things sound like opposites but the school is trying to say that they could be the same thing.

The principal called an assembly before lunch and congratulated us, which seemed strange because we didn't do anything except go to the school that got chosen by Healthy Lunches, Healthy Choices. The principal was standing next to a chef, who was smiling really big, and there were
photographers taking pictures, and whenever the photographers moved, the chef would kind of turn his head so he was always facing them.

The principal said that we were part of a food revolution and that we were so lucky to have this famous chef personally cook us our first new meal. But we didn't feel lucky because no one cared about the chef or the principal or even about eating lunch. We just do it because it's in the schedule.

Normally the school serves usual school food like spaghetti and meatballs or fish sticks or pizza on Fridays. But I never eat that stuff because it's usually the same weird texture even though it's different food and it's put on a tray by a mean woman with a hairnet who scares me and also chews gum with her mouth open.

I eat the same thing every day: a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin, which means the cake is chocolate and there are also chocolate chips. I know it doesn't sound like a muffin is enough food, but they're not the normal-size muffins. They're really big and really soft except the top part, which has a crusty edge that's delicious and is chewy like gum, but a kind you're allowed to swallow.

For drinking, I always get a Snapple, which is actually a lemon Snapple, but lemon is the basic flavor so I just say Snapple and they give me a lemon one. I eat and drink the same thing every day because it makes me feel less nervous to know that it's there.

Sometimes, if Mom can't sleep because she's panicked about her life decisions, she'll stay up all night and pack me a lunch to distract herself from her bad thoughts.

But Mom's lunches are never actually possible to eat. One time, she packed me a single stick of Juicy Fruit gum, a box of toothpicks, and a note asking me to stay late after school because a gentleman friend was coming over. Today she packed me butter, a box of dry macaroni and cheese, and a book of matches. I think she just empties the refrigerator at night and takes the stuff she doesn't want and puts it in the trash, the garbage disposal, or my lunch bag.

Anyway, today's lunch by the famous chef was a few different things and I wrote them down so I would remember all the names of the foods, which I hadn't really seen before and which I would not really like to see again because they were gross.

The first thing was called “Arugula Salad with Roasted Beetroots.” This was like a salad, but instead of lettuce and tomatoes, there were bitter leaves that made us all want to puke right there at our tables and beets, which are dark red balls that kind of look like bloody feces and which I have recently discovered produces just that.

The second thing was called “Poached Salmon with Dill.” The salmon tasted like when you chew on paper and the dill part tasted like cut grass from the garbage of a lawn mower got caught in my teeth.

And the dessert wasn't really dessert. It was something called “Compote,” which is really just another word for jelly that's hot and soupy, like throw-up made from Arugula and Beetroot Salad.

While we ate the gross food, the chef came around to our tables with a photographer. He put his arms around us and
smiled for the pictures and said dumb things like, “Look out diabetes! Here comes a spoonful of compote!” or “I think I see a salmon swimming upstream with a delivery of omega-3s! Next stop, brain development!” He didn't even realize that we hated his food and, in a way, we hated him and hated that he ruined our day and maybe lunch forever.

Even if the food was really good, which it wasn't, the school shouldn't have made us eat it right away. They should have done it little by little, like putting a small amount of the dill stuff on pizza if they really needed to. I understand that they think they're being good by trying to make us more healthy, but it just seemed like they were so proud to have the chef there that they didn't think about what we would have wanted.

It's like just because the adults thought it was a great idea, we would too. But kids think differently than adults think. Adults have spent so many years thinking more and more like each other because the more you live with other people the less you think like yourself and the more you think like them. But kids are new people so we still think more normally. That's why I'm giving Robert Frost Elementary School and Healthy Lunches, Healthy Choices 256 out of 2000 stars.