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“I’m sorry,” I say. “Are you feeling guilty about your Porsche?”
He looks over at me. “I wasn’t until I met you.”
“I’m sorry. I think.”
“You said you wished you could do something special for your grandmother, like treat her to a dinner cruise. Those cost, what, a hundred or two? Shouldn’t you be giving that money to those more in need?”
I see his point. A dinner cruise is a luxury for many in the world.
“Does it have to be all or nothing?” he asks. “Or can you treat yourself once in a while and still be a do-gooder?”
I peer at him. “Are you a do-gooder sometimes?”
He frowns and stares ahead. “No.”
“At least you’re honest.”
He doesn’t say anything. I try to lift the suddenly solemn mood. “You returned my sweater to me. That was a nice deed.”
“That’s patronizing.”
“Some people have to start small,” I object. “You’re the one who said you don’t do any good.”
“Yeah, well, there’s also nothing intrinsically virtuous about being poor or depriving yourself.”
I nod and decide to change the subject. “So you were in the area?” I couldn’t resist asking. I know it’s probably far-fetched to think he’d make a special trip just for me, but I want confirmation.
He looks at me. “What do you mean, was I ‘in the area?’”
He’s got to know what I mean. Is he trying to get me to say it out loud?
“Like, what were you doing in Berkeley?” I rephrase.
“Returning your sweater.”
His stare makes me squirm. I change the subject again. “So what do you like about this car? I’m guessing it’s not the fuel efficiency.”
“It extends my penis by three inches.”
I look at him in surprise, then laugh. “Only three? For a hundred thousand, I would expect at least a five-inch gain. You got gypped.”
He chuckles. “Good thing it has other qualities I care about. It drives smooth. I like the way it looks. Fuel efficiency isn’t bad since it’s a hybrid.”
I smile. “Hey, there’s hope for you yet.”
He pulls into the parking garage of the Trader Joe’s and we get out. I remember I still haven’t found my list, so I’ll have to go off memory. Once inside the store, I grab a shopping cart and head to the produce aisle for collard greens and sweet potato.
“You cook?” he asks as he follows me about the store.
“A little. Aunt Coretta was a fantastic cook, and she would let me help her.”
“This was your neighbor and grandmother’s friend?”
“Yeah, she helped raise me. I’m making her collard greens recipe tonight. Do you cook?”
“No.”
“At all?”
