Your Princess is in Another Castle (32 page)

“A grit kid,” I say running my hand across my now
clean-shaven cheek, having no more use for a beard. 

“Exactly. 
You’re precisely the kind of young man mothers love.  Remember when my parents were here last year and helped me move back into my dorm?  Well, my mom fell in love with you in the short time she spent with you.  Because she could sense that you’re a winner.  The kind of guy mothers want their daughters to date, a guy who would lead young vulnerable girls not into temptation.  If you were with a girl who wanted to put out, you’d try and talk her out of it. 

“
You’re a non-threat, a good old-fashioned good boy who the Aunt Mays of the world are always going to love for your respectability.  To pretend that you’re anything other than that is a lie that isn’t going to last.  And there’s nothing wrong with that, man.  Sabrina isn’t attracted to you because she thinks you’re this dangerous rebel without a cause who plays by his own rules.”         

“You’re right.  I am a winner.” 

“You are indeed.  But we’re both in it to win it tonight.  So where are you taking Sabrina for your date?”

“
Well, we were supposed to be going out for pizza than seeing Casino Royale.  But I’ve thought about just calling her and cancelling after what happened last night.” 

“Don’t do that, man.  It’s like I just told you.
  A winner is you.  And that’s what Sabrina wants in a guy.  Search your feelings.  You know this to be true.  And don’t forget, so far this has all played out exactly as Jimmy said it would.” 

“I
suppose you’re right.  As was Jimmy, apparently.  I guess I will go through with the date.  After all, a winner must win.”     

“Good, I’m glad to hear that
.  And I’m sure we’d have seen Bond together already if it hadn’t come out the same weekend as the PlayStation 3.  I want to see it too, but don’t worry, I won’t take Samantha there tonight and create an awkward situation where you bump into her.  I don’t think she’d enjoy bumping into my asshole friend Justin, either.”  Chris smiles at me. 

“Yeah,” I say.  “So what are you two doing?”

“I’m taking Samantha bowling.  After that, I dunno.”

“
You bowl?”

“Not really, but remember
, she likes to do something sporty.  And you have to change your shoes in order to bowl.  So there’ll be some transitory barefootedness for me to enjoy, and it’ll also be an opportunity for me to covertly check out the condition of Samantha’s soles.  I didn’t get a chance to on our first date and I want to see what I have to work with so I don’t start falling for her only to find out she’s got like the darkest, ugliest soles in the world or something, you know?”

“
But if Samantha knows she’s going bowling isn’t she likely to already be wearing shoes with socks so that when she changes into the bowling shoes you won’t be seeing anything because of her socks?”

“I anticipated that.  That’s why I didn’t tell her
we were going bowling.  And Samantha’s a flip-flop girl anyway and it’s been unusually warm the past few days so I’m hoping luck is on my side and that she’ll show up wearing sandals.  And I called the alley already to see if they sell socks for people who show up unprepared.  They said they do.” 

“Well, aside from the gamb
le of her showing up in sandals you seem to have this pretty well thought out, I must admit.”

“Yeah, I’m like the
Machiavelli of foot fetishism.  I just hope that if and when the time comes that Samantha will be okay with the fact that that’s what I like.  And I’ll be pretty cautious about coming out to her.  I’ll wait until the time is right.  Now what about you, man?  Are you nervous about tonight?”

“No, a
fter what happened last night I’m already prepared for the worst.  Actually, I’m starting to feel a little excited.  I have a real date with a real geeky girl.  No need for any disguises or subterfuge.  No cloak and dagger stuff.  Just me the winner and my geeky date Sabrina out and about up to no good.  Or up to only good, I guess would be the case.”

“
I’m excited, too.  For you and for me.  So are you carrying a condom in your wallet just in case?”

“No,” I say
wondering if perhaps Chris just jinxed the whole thing.   

“It’s dangerous to go alone, man
.”  Chris opens his wallet and tosses me a condom.  “Take this.”

I tap my fingers on the armrest of the sofa inside the gaming room of The Vault, likely the same sofa that once allowed Sabrina to so distract Chris during a game of Magic.  Despite my status as a winner, I’m still nervous about meeting Sabrina’s father.  While I’m known to Dave as a regular customer of his store, he must now look upon me as a potential suitor to his daughter.  But as Dave is one of the anointed geeks, there’s little chance I could fail to impress him, so my nervousness must simply stem from my inexperience.  Also working in my favor is the fact that I didn’t have to see Molly when I came in as Brian, The Vault’s answer to Comic Book Guy, is working in her stead.

I’m
put at ease when Dave enters the room.  Physically, there’s no reason to be afraid of him as he is rather short and scrawny, looking like a pre-super soldier serum Steve Rogers minus the blonde hair.  Dave also smiles at me, likely relieved that he has nothing to worry about since his daughter is going out with the winningest of winners.  

“Hi, Mr. Westlake,” I say. 

“Dave’s fine,” he says.  “It’s not like you’re in high school and escorting Sabrina to the prom.”  Chris mentioned condoms.  Dave mentioned proms.  Both are bad omens.  “And since you’re both adults, I’m not going to give you the overly protective father speech about how I expect you to have my daughter home by ten and that she be brought back in mint condition.  Now, she tells me that you’re seeing the new James Bond film tonight.”     

“That’s right.
  First we’re going out for pizza, though.”

“I see. 
So how about you tell me who you are and how you came to be?”

The self-description. 
We’re asked to do this at the beginning of the semester in every small to moderately sized class I’ve ever taken.  I usually reveal my name, hometown, and the fun fact that I hate talking about myself.  That’s enough to establish me as one who shouldn’t be invited out to the bars after class while not going so far as to be branded as a potential school shooter.  But I’m among my own kind here and any factoids disclosed now would be of genuine interest to my audience.

“
I study English at Northwestern as an undergraduate,” I say.  “I’d like to be a writer someday.  Become someone like Neil Gaiman who’s worked in every medium.  In the meantime I work for the campus newspaper.”

“As a mild-mannered reporter?”

“No.  Circulation delivery.  I’m their paperboy.  And I manage the archives and do other odd jobs required of the office lackey.  After I graduate I plan on going to grad school for my MFA and then either teach creative writing or composition.”           

“What kind of stories do you write?”

“Usually, comedies of errors with a little bit of autobiographical content thrown in.  Although if I worked in comics I’d prefer to do superhero stuff.”   

“Who’s your favorite superhero?”

“Spider-Man.  I started reading him because my cousin was a fan and everyone else I ever picked up could never eclipse him.

“The Westlakes have always
been more of a DC family, but everyone has to read some Spidey now and then.”

“
Yeah, I’ve been reading more DC since Batman Begins came out.”

“
Batman Begins has certainly helped out our business a lot.  Although it still hasn’t quite made up for the losses we incurred after Batman & Robin.  Or do you think it’s time we let go of bashing that movie?”  

“Batman & Robin is like the
Alamo.  It should always be remembered.  The day we fans forget Batman & Robin is the day Warner Bros. will decide to make another one.” 

Dave chuckles.  “Well, you certainly seem qualified to be taking out my daughter.
She also told me you did well on her Star Wars character test.”

“I did, although I slipped up on Porkins being named in A New Hope.  I wouldn’t have made that mistake ten years ago, but you know how the prequels devalued so much of the lore.”

“Of course.  Oh, and Sabrina also mentioned you were a videogamer.  She told me a rather amusing anecdote about you and beer pong.”

“Yeah, it’s just too bad I wasn’t wearing Peter Parker’s yellow sweater
-vest with a tie when I made those comments.”  We both laugh.

“So do
you play any MMOs, then?” asks Dave in a suddenly serious tone. 

“No.  In fa
ct, I don’t play anything online, really.  I’ve basically lost touch with my brother because all he does anymore is play Halo online.”

“
But do you not play online by choice or is it merely due to a lack of a gaming caliber PC or proper hi-speed network connection?”

“Alright daddy,
” says Sabrina upon entering the room, “let’s not scare away my date by going overboard with your interrogation.”

“
I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all,” says Dave.

Sabrina hugs her father.  “Papa, you’re embarrassi
ng me.  Why don’t you just go ahead and let us be off?”  

“Alright, you kids go out and have a good time,”
says Dave.  “Oh, you wouldn’t happen to have a relative named Caitlin though, would you?”  He grins at me.              

“Caitlin?” I ask.

“As in Caitlin Fairchild, the buxom redhead from Gen 13,” says Sabrina with a bit of annoyance in her voice.  “She’s my dad’s comic book dream girl.”

“Oh, right,
” I say.  “No.  Sorry.  We have no Caitlins in our family.”

“Ah well, it was a long
shot,” says Dave.  “Anyway, have fun tonight.  I guess I’ll go talk to Brian about how he’s faring painting his Warhammer miniatures.”

Sabrina and I say goodbye to
Dave and he departs to the front of the store.  I look at Sabrina (my date for the evening, an exciting concept).  She’s wearing a black t-shirt with the bat-symbol on it and pink pajama pants with an all-white version of Superman’s
S
emblem.  “You look very pretty,” I say.

Sabrina
smiles.  “Yeah, I know.  I’m the world’s finest.  You know, I thought about dolling myself up and wearing something really nice, but then I thought that you might respond to this look more.”

“A correct assumption
.”

“Shall we be off
, then?”   

“Absolutely.” 
Our date has begun.

Sabrina sits across from me casually, appearing much too relaxed to be having second thoughts about this whole date thing.  I’m finding the experience very surreal, much like Luke’s arrival on Dagobah, it’s like something out of a dream.       

“So how do you like your pizza?”
asks Sabrina.

“Plain cheese,
” I say.  “The preferred choice of Macaulay
Culkin in Home Alone, I might add.”

“Ugh, how bland!”

“Well, get used to it, because that’s just the way I like it, baby.”

Sabrina
laughs.  “I don’t think so.  But I’m sure we can come to an agreement.  How do you feel about Canadian bacon?”

“I find it to be the ideal meat topping.”

“Okay, that’s a start.  Do you like mushrooms?”

“Only in Super Mario Bros.”

“Radishes?”

“Radishes?  On a pizza?”

“Well, now you’ve got me thinking about Super Mario.  How about olives?”

“Next.”

“Green peppers?”                     

“Look, I’m gonna level with you.  I’m not much of a veggie guy.
  I like my cheeseburgers plain, with only meat and cheese.  So I don’t think we’re going to reach a consensus here.  Why don’t we just get half cheese and half whatever it is you’d like?”

“And create a psychological barrier
between us on our very first date?  Certainly not!  We’ll just get Canadian bacon all over.”

“I can live with that.  So what kind of crust do you like?”

“You first.”

“I like thick-
crust.”

“Hmm, so
, should I be worried about that?”

“
Worried about what?”

“Wel
l, I think guys that like thick-crust pizza tend to like thick-bodied women, too.  And I’m just a little mousy pipsqueak who could best be described as petite.  If I were taller, I bet I could cosplay as Olive Oil.  And I like thin-crust because I’m so small I don’t really need thick-crust to get filled up.”

“I wouldn’t be too worried about
my liking thick-crust.  The fact that you’re enough of a fan of Super Mario that you can instantly bring to mind the vegetable arsenal from the American Super Mario Bros. 2 is enough to win me over.”

“Well, that’s somewhat reassuring. 
But if you hate vegetables so much, what do you do when you’re in a restaurant that always has a salad come with your entree?”

“I just try and substitute
the salad with rice or something like that.” 

The server arrives and we
order a medium, thin-crust Canadian bacon pizza with a side of breadsticks.

“
So, you basically have the taste palette of a six-year-old, then?” asks Sabrina.

“Yep. 
I do like Chinese food, though.”

“
Well, that’s something.  I do, too.  Whatcha like?”

“
Oh, I like sweet and sour chicken, General Tso’s chicken, hot-braised chicken.  Anything chicken, really.”

“So
, no egg rolls or lo mein for you, then?”

“Nope.”

“What about tofu?”

“No.  I don’t like soy
in general.  Soy burgers aren’t really burgers, and soy milk isn’t really milk.  Eating a soy substitute for a given food is like reading about the adventures of U.S. Agent instead of Captain America when issues of Cap are readily available.  If you wanna be a vegan, you should just go ahead and have a salad and quit with these facsimile foods.  Burgers and milk come from cows, not from soybeans.”

“Well,
I’m no vegan, but I have been known to enjoy a glass of soy milk from time to time.”

“
But it’s not really milk.”

“I know
that.  But it’s still good.”

“Well
, if you’re going to drink it, you should at least stop calling it milk.  You know, in the European Union it’s actually illegal to call it soy milk.  To be able to call a substance milk in the European Union, it must have actually been drawn from a mammal.  So over there, soy milk is instead referred to as a soy beverage.”

“Well
, it appears that you have a very high reverence for milk.  All those
it does your body good
commercials from the early nineties must have really left an impression on you.”  

“I guess they did.
”

“Well, obviously.  However,
in your championing the cause of milk, you missed my original point.  Tofu is a soy product that is unique in and of itself.  It’s not meant to serve as an alternative to existing animal products.”

“Perhaps I overreacted, then. 
So, how’d you first become a fan of tofu?”  

“
In the same manner in which I’m exposed to all new ideas and cultures, of course.  From comic books and videogames.  In this case, a videogame.  Can you guess which one I’m talking about?”

“Would it turn you on if I could?”

“Immensely.  Get it right and I might even let you hold my hand later.”

We smile at each o
ther.  Every time Sabrina laughs or smiles, I feel like I can worry a little bit less and just enjoy being with her. 

“Well,
” I say, “I suppose you might be able to raise soybean crops in some of the Harvest Moon games, but Resident Evil 2 is, I believe, the only game where you can actually play as a piece of tofu.  So, maybe getting to run around stabbing zombies as a piece of bean curd made you curious what it tasted like.”

“
Impressive.  You’re right.  Resident Evil 2 was my formal introduction to tofu.  I felt like I just had to try a dish that was deemed worthy of being made into a playable videogame character.  And so, I began walking down the sometimes disturbing road that is Japanese humor.  Now, I’d be even more impressed if you’ve ever actually beaten the Tofu minigame.”    

I hang my head in shame.  “One of a handful o
f my gaming failures.  Right up there with never getting the adamant armor in Final Fantasy IV, and only beating Contra using the Konami code.  I have beaten Hunk’s minigame, though.”

“
Well, don’t feel too bad about that.  I’ve never conquered the Tofu minigame, either.  I’m a huge fan of the Resident Evil series, though.  In fact, I had a major crush on Leon when I was young.  My sister loved Jonathan Taylor Thomas from Home Improvement, but Leon was my guy.  I rarely played as Claire even though I usually like having a female protagonist just because Leon was so dreamy.  I liked his newbie-ness and naïveté, and that he wasn’t just another bare-chested macho commando.”