June 26, 2002

Today is the day to flee the paparazzi.

9

Lillibet sat in a window seat annihilating a piece of bread as George lumbered toward the restaurant, barreled through the door and sat down in a sweaty huff.

"Hello George," she said.

"Yeah, hi," he said irritably, and she rolled her eyes. The waitress approached.

"Can I get you something to drink, sir?"

George turned towards her. "I just sat down. Do you mind letting me, oh, I don't know, take a millisecond to rest and look at the drink menu before you start pestering me? Or are you that anxious to turn around this table and make another 10% tip?"

The waitress gaped as Lillibet, accustomed to George and his behavior, looked on disinterestedly. As the server walked away, Lillibet commented loudly, "She is so thin."

"What are you talking about?" George shot back, "You've got the figure of a broomstick."

"So? Just because I'm thin, I can't accuse people of being thin as well?"

"I just think it's a little ironic. A little pot-calling-the-kettle-black."

"So you're saying that fat people can't say that other people are fat? Or that ugly people can't say that other people are ugly? Or that you can't call obnoxious people obnoxious?"

"You're being ridiculous."

"I wonder," Lillibet mused, "If that's the case, if you have to be superior to somebody in order to comment upon them. If so, are there people out there who are so ugly, so poor, so uneducated and so unsavory that they can't say anything bad about anybody else? What a miserable existence that would be."

"Since when did you become so equal-opportunity?"

"Sven is very Zen," she said. "The Tao, the I Ching, all that crap. I guess it must have rubbed off on me in some way."

"Sven is Zen?" George repeated with a smirk.

"Oh please," Lillibet retorted. "Are you doing so badly that you have to resort to stupid rhymes to entertain yourself?"

"And how is this prime specimen of the male species?" George asked.

"Oh, fine," Lillibet said breezily. "He's patenting some sort of microchip or something that's going to revolutionize computers or something like that. Horribly boring. He's got what's-his-name, Tim Gates, scrambling like crazy, offering him all kinds of money."

"Bill Gates."

"I don't really care."

"Where is that goddamned waitress?"

"I believe that you scared her."

"Well, that's not my problem, I'm the customer."

George flagged down the waitress and ordered a double vodka, with a Coke on the side.

"Very healthy, George."

"What, is Sven a health nut, too?"

"He was on the crew of The Stars and Stripes in the America's Cup."

"How WASPy, Lillibet, good job. Where did you find this guy, a Ralph Lauren ad? Now, should I just come back another time to talk to you, or would you rather we dedicate this lunch to extolling Sven?"

Lillibet dramatically threw what was left of her piece of bread on the floor. "Shut the hell up, George. You know, you are not such a gift to mankind that it's a treat for me to sit here and dine with you. I spent three years with you, so I know exactly how much fun you can be. I thought that I was here to help you, but if you're just going to bitch and moan and embarrass me, then I do have better things to do."

George sat quietly for a moment, trying very hard not to lash out again at Lillibet. He hated that she could say these things to him, and that they were correct, and it drove him crazy to think that his silence meant that he was accepting her criticism, that he was admitting defeat. But he also knew that Lillibet was the only person who could help him. Although he did have a wicked idea:

Maybe he could write about her. She was a character. People knew about her. They would buy that book.

But then George quickly (and, thankfully for him)
remembered all the things that Lillibet could say about him in the public forum. And as little as he cared about other people's opinions, she held information on him that no human being, no matter how callous, stupid or insane, would want to be made public. (So, no, it wasn't a sudden burst of conscience.)

"I think I'll have some lunch first, and then we'll talk about it," he said, struggling to maintain an even tone. "I'm hungry, and it's making me frustrated."

"Good idea," said Lillibet.

They sat silently, like so many old, married couples, only speaking when the waitress took their orders.

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with orders of both fries and onion rings," George requested, after Lillibet had ordered.

"Maybe you should just get a salad," Lillibet said.

George bit his tongue so hard that it bled, but he managed not to retort.

Lillibet, as she waited for her food, secretly worried.

Something had to be wrong with George to let her walk all over him like that. Then, she wondered how far she could take it.