Escondido Enemigos

It was an evening like any other evening. Clint had made his way up to Edmond in the afternoon to visit Nicole, his fiancé, and help gather addresses for wedding invitations. And that is exactly what came to pass.

Having completed such arduous tasks, their early-twenty-someone bellies were all a-grumble--Nicole's merely a-mumble. The central Oklahoma phenomenon embodied as a Tex-Mex restaurante with a recent stint of mitosis beckoned the young lovers.

The list for available seating filled the hostesses glowing LCD screen with names like Ingrid, Gerber, Chavez, and upon Clint and Nicole's arrival, "Elliott." Clint usues his middle name in such situations, because he always has to repeat himself when he uses his first or last name.

"The wait will be about 35 minutes."

So, they stood and chatted in the summer evening. The kind in which it feels like one's innards and skin are the same temperature as the air surrounding one's self. Soon, they were able to sit at a bench.

Honeymoon destinations were discussed. Nicole and her father had recently brainstormed some possible locations: Vancouver, Victoria Island, Seattle, Maine, and so on. She shared these with Clint. Clint thought these were good locations. But, he failed to voice this thought.

"Well, when you think about it, all of these locations are pretty much the same," said Clint.

There was a pause.

He continued,"Every location deals with the coasts. You pretty much have the option of either island or land."

Another pause.

"Right?"

Nicole's demeanor underwent a change upon Clint stating that all the locations are pretty much the same.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"I don't want to make the decision... for multiple reasons. I don't mind giving input."

"Well, okay... Do you think I am trying to make you make the decision right now?"

"I feel like I am going to have to make the decision."

"Okay... but, do you think that, right now, I am trying to make us--make you--make the decision?"

"No."

"All I am trying to do is ask if you like the idea of staying on an island or land."

"But, I don't have any more input... you aren't giving any locations."

"No," stated boldy, cutting off Nicole. "That's not what happened. I'm just trying to get your input on whether you like the island or the land. Geographically."

"But, you don't like any of the locations."

"Oh."

Everything lined up at that moment.

"I like the locations."

A few minutes passed under a lighter mood having discovered the problem. But, it wasn't long before growling of their bellies again spread to their mouths.

Clint was observing a crowd of people that had just exited the Escondido. One of the members of the crowd, a teenage girl wearing a floral dress over her jeans, had an interesting voice. Furthermore, upon addressing her comrade, she spoke her strange timbre while staring at the other's neck in an insecure manner. Clint found this amusing and nudged Nicole to take a gander for herself.

Nicole was observing an older couple who appeared to be on a date. The gentleman would rarely look at the lady; whereas, the lady was nearly at all times looking at the gentleman. This sparked a train of thought in Nicole.

"Why is it that men are supposed to be such visual creatures, but, in the midst of conversation, men rarely look at the other involved?" Nicole inquired to Clint. "Right?"

"I don't know."

Clint continued looking at the group with the girl with the funny voice. There was now a woman with an incredibly boney jaw that captivated him.

"Women are almost always looking at who they are talking to... Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know."

The familiar pause rears its head.

"Why aren't you talking to me?" moaned Nicole.

"I am."

"No you aren't. You just keep saying 'I don't know.'"

"I honestly don't know why men do that."

"Well, you could still talk to me about it."

"Are you hungry?" inquired Clint, hinting at hunger as a possible cause of the perceived moodiness.

"I am just trying to figure out what you think."

"Okay... Well, I am looking at this group of people while I talk to you. I am not looking at you. Does 'visual' equate to just the physical things or does it also include abstract ideas?"

"So, men are attaching the conversation to the ideas and content of the conversation more, and women attach the conversation to who they are talking to... I am hungry."

"Yeah... I know you are. Me too."

Later, while Clint and Nicole devoured the Tex-Mex vittles that kept appearing before them via the speedy hands of the silent Mexican staff, Clint interjected with what he thought a profound thought.

"We should make a blog about our arguments."

Nicole laughed.

"That would be good."

So the couple discussed the idea. They decided that the names of other people--should they ever be included in any arguments--must be replaced with cliché African-American names. They also deceided that arguments that are only truly over and forgiven may be published. They then realized their need to close the evenings arguements with apologies.