Once anyone spends a little bit of time with me on a consistent basis, they learn one important fact -- don't let me get too hungry. Since I'm not much of a cook and generally keep little to no food in my house because I detest grocery shopping, I sometimes get stuck in situations that leave me not having eaten for many hours. I can usually do just fine for 10 hours without a meal. But 10 hours and 1 minute....I become a raging, cranky bitch.
I think Wine Guy got a small taste of the hungry Trooper this past Saturday night. It was definitely the first time I let that bitch slip out, yet I couldn't stop her, even if I wanted to. We had spent most of the day wandering around town on odd errands for his new apartment. "Nesting" tasks I guess you'd say. Not particularly fun but good bonding time nonetheless.
The plan was for him to cook his first meal for me that night at his place. He loves to cook and entertain which works well because I love to eat and can't stand the thought of going in the kitchen except to pour myself a cold beverage from the fridge and throw away my takeout containers. But unfortunately the afternoon and evening got away from us when we got distracted rearranging the furniture in his living room. By the time everything was back in its new, much improved place, it was almost 9pm. I was tired, grungy and, worse, hungry.
When he told me he had to do laundry or he would have nothing to wear to our planned outing with my friends the next day, well, the little grumpy bitch came out. I can't say for sure how terrible I was or wasn't because when I get that tired and cranky, I lose all grasp of reality. Everything becomes a jumble of bad temper mixed with headache and irritability. I do know that he was able to soothe and somehow convince me that dinner was just around the corner. The next thing I remember, I'm eating a wonderful Thai dish he had prepared, sipping wine (of course) and making out on the well-placed couch. The bitch had been put in her place.
Fully satiated and rested, I forgot about the incident until the next day when Wine Guy, my friend Mendoza and I were driving up to Orange County to visit my friends. We passed the detestable Irvine Spectrum shopping center and I commented that that was the site of my attempt to start a riot a few years back. Needless to say, this required some explanation.
When I first started dating Only Child,who would be my boyfriend for six more years, we went to the Spectrum to meet some friends at a dueling piano bar. The place was notorious for ridiculously long lines because, frankly, there's nothing else to do in Orange County. Typical of a night with Only Child as I found out over the years to come, we had stalled and delayed and planned not a thing so by the time we got there it was late and I was starving. The line was snaking around the building and we watched as they let one person in for every one that came out. One by one. One by one. I thought it would never end. I could hear the music and the laughing. But more important, I could smell the food. My blood sugar had hit rock bottom by the time we were about 5 people away from the door. I was barely holding it together, my head spinning, my temper rising, and Only Child just standing there waiting patiently for our turn to enter.
When the two girls who had been standing in front of us were joined in line by a large group of their girlfriends, I completely snapped. Suddenly the line went from "I'm barely holding it together because we are almost there" to "take no prisoners, I'm going in or else." I started to rant, hands flying, "That's it! I can't take it! I'm gonna start a riot! I swear to god, I'm gonna start a riot!"
Remember when I told you that I lose any concept of reality? I wasn't kidding.
The girls in front of us were shocked and, I suspect, scared.They kindly offered to let us go in front of them. I was ready to respond "Good. Move. Get out of the way." But Only Child was mortified and said no thank you. Before I could grab him by the hair and make him change his answer, he turned to me, shoved a crumpled $5 bill in my hand and said, "[my name] go to the food court and get some pizza. Now. I 'll wait here."
Oh shit. I was being sent away. But I only cared in hindsight, once I got some protein in my system. For the moment I was perfectly happy to snatch the money and storm off to the neon-lit food court for my greasy piece of pizza.
By the time I was finished wolfing it down, I had realized what an absolute ass I had made of myself. Would Only Child ever get over my insanity? Would I? Would those girls go fetch their tattoo-covered Orange County boyfriends to kick Only Child's ass?
When I returned, the girls were already inside and Only Child was waiting at the front of the line. I meekly smiled and said, "I'm sorry." I tried to laugh it off and, thank God, Only Child was more than happy to reciprocate and turn the incident into the first thing he would relentlessly tease me about (there would be many more to come, I assure you). So now whenever one of us loses our temper or patience (we are still friends) out comes the catchphrase, "I'm gonna start a riot!"
So, after I tell this charming little story to Mendoza and Wine Guy, he turns to sneak a malicious little peek at Mendoza in the backseat and says, "Yeah, I saw a little bit of that last night!" And then they both laughed. At me. Well, it's better than giving up on me I suppose.
Apparently, it's pretty common for the female species to get like this when they get past the point of normal hunger. Mendoza said she has the same problem but she knows to keep a snack with her in case she feels it coming on. I'm pretty sure that Wine Guy will be stocking up on protein bars to keep the Hungry Bitch at bay.
Here's to good eatin'.