Dinner Without Tom Redux
It was sad to see what Mark did with a perfectly funny episode in my life yesterday.
Mark was known as The Boy Who Liked To Eat because he did. Once in the winter of 1982 my Mom baked three pecan pies. My Family found this odd because only Mom liked pecan pies, so we saw little reason for one pecan pie let alone three of the damn things. In the next few days Mom was able to eat about half a pie herself.
So when Mark came over that weekend he saw two and a half pies sitting there begging to be eaten. He asked my Mom if he could have some.
"Help yourself", my Mom said. Then without realizing what she was saying she added, "Eat all you want."
Within the space of 30 minutes there now sat one lone pie. Mark sat at the kitchen table looking at it with hungry eyes, but restraining himself from eating it because he didn't want to look like a pig. Also my Mom was cooking supper and he wanted to save some room in that bottomless pit he called a stomach.
Mom was delighted to see that so much of her pies had been eaten. She was a little taken aback to find out they had been eaten by one person. It was shortly after that we saw a news report on the new video arcades sweeping America. In the segment they showed someone playing Pacman. Dad muttered," looks like your friend."
"Who? The kid playing?"
"No, the thing eating all those dots."
Three years later in the summer of 1985, life had changed much for me. We no longer lived at the private park, and my job was taking care of my ailing Grandfather. Everynight I had to be home by ten to stay up, or at least sleep in the same room with him. To say it was a draining experience would be a vast understatement. I was only 20, yet everyday I was confronted with the ravages of old age.
It would have been easier if my Dad had shown some gratitude about what I was doing. I had given up most aspects of a social life to stay home and care for his Dad. Yet he seemed to act as if it was required of me. I grew increasingly bitter and began to plot my escape to college.
However one glorious summer day Mom told me Dad was having a cookout just for us. She told me he was doing it to show how much he appreciated me helping out with Grandpa. I was touched and moved (and more then a little suspicious. Dad cooked Steak on the grill once a week at least. He never seemed to need any excuse before.) I could smell the aroma of the steak drifting into the house.
Now on this point Mark was correct. Dad was a magician when it came to cooking steak on the grill. He cooked steak the way Mozart wrote music, or the way Leonardo da Vinci painted masterpieces. I would kill for one of steaks.
I was so excited about the upcoming meal that when Mom pointed out we needed some ketchup and asked if I could run to the store, I gladly obliged her. She gave me the money and I took off running to the local grocery store.
While there, I bumped into a very lovely blonde girl who filled her sweater out in very lovely ways. I stayed and chatted with her for maybe all of 7 minutes. However remembering the Steak that awaited me at home I soon got her phone number and ran off for home.
In just a few more minutes I was bounding my front steps and opening the door. I raced into the dining room.......
Where I saw Mark.
Sitting in my chair. Eating a steak.
My steak.
With my fried mushrooms.
And Diced onions.
And French Fries.
And the little hungry freak smiled at me.
I was so stunned I couldn't speak for a moment. Finally I choked out,"Is there another steak for me."
Dad didn't even look at me. "Nope", he said as he ate another piece of his.
"But you gave mine away", I said in a very weak voice.
"Sorry" said Mom.
"You gave my food away." I wanted to cry.
"He looked hungry", Mom said. Mark smiled as he ate another piece of MY steak.
"HE ALWAYS LOOKS HUNGRY! IT'S MARK!"
"I could cook you a hot dog", my Mom suggested.
I looked at the remains of the steak (really just some bone on Mark's plate by this stage) and decided that going hungry was preferable than having a hot dog.
I was so angry. My parents gave my food to someone else.
Food that was supposed to be cooked to show their gratitude for taking care of my grandfather.
Since then there have been two times that I told Mark I was going to try to hook him up with a girl. Each time I thought of the steak and grabbed the girl for myself.
It still doesn't make up for the Steak.