Something to Talk About

Chandler clumsily maneuvered his way through the busy Manhattan sidewalk, a dejected expression on his face as he hung his head down low. He was too busy lamenting this evening's turn of events to pay attention to the other passersby that scowled as he brushed past them. His thoughts were occupied with self-doubt and self-pity and he could not seem to care about strangers that he would never see again.

Tonight started out promising. He had a date with an attractive woman who worked in his building that he had been interested in for the last couple of months. He started to go into work early in order to ride the elevator with her every morning, and after a few weeks of some flirtatious body language between the two of them, he finally found the courage to actually say something to her. It was just a quiet "hello", but to him it was an accomplishment tantamount to the first man landing on the moon.

He spent the following three weeks after that first brief greeting devising a plan of action, On a nightly basis he conspired with Joey on what his next move should be. He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he remembered Joey's advice to tell her she had a nice rack as an icebreaker.

Instead of remarking on her body, Chandler decided he would take his time and he added a new word each day to their dialogue. "Hello" became "Good Morning." "Good Morning" became "Nice weather, right?". That was followed up with "What time is it?". It took him nine days to finally ask her what her name was. It was another four days until he actually told her his own name, having forgotten to introduce himself. After two-and-a-half weeks of these incremental increases in conversation, he finally asked her out for a drink after work.

They met at a bar close to her neighborhood, and they talked for ten minutes as their first drink arrived. They told each other about where they went to school, where they grew up, their favorite bands. Then, the conversation dried up. Neither one of them felt any kind of connection. Chandler knew he was in for trouble when he resorted to reading the late-night snack menu to her as if it were a news bulletin. She drank down her glass of wine quickly and then excused herself to the bathroom. She never returned.

Chandler sat at the bar for forty minutes, trying to convince himself, against all evidence to the contrary, that she would be back at any moment. As time wore on, he became resigned to his fate and thought about staying to drown his dating sorrows and watch the other women as they entered the bar. He fantasized and let his mind play tricks on him that he might actually have a shot with one of the handful of women that were already there and take one of them home for the night, even though he knew he would never find the fortitude to actually speak to any of them.

Before he accepted defeat and acknowledged that his night was over before it had barely begun, he remembered that Iridium was just a few blocks away. It was almost 10pm and Monica would no doubt be getting off work soon. He nodded to himself and decided walking home and poking fun at his terrible dating record would be more enjoyable with her than if he allowed himself to do it all on his own. He grabbed his coat and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He spun around as he tried to get his bearings and started his short journey to his new destination.

When he reached the restaurant, he slowly opened the door and looked around. There were still a few people seated at some tables who were no doubt eating a late supper and enjoying a glass of wine with someone they loved or thought they could love. It appeared to him that everyone in New York was having a wonderful date night except for him. He shook his head and cursed all the happy loving couples in the tri-state area.

He brought his gaze to the prep station behind the counter where Monica would normally be, and smiled as he saw her there in her white chef's coat and hat. She was chopping some sort of vegetable and dropping the cut pieces into a bowl next to her. Her eyes never leaving her task. She even seemed to smile to herself upon every new ingredient that she successfully prepared and added to the mix.

He got a kick out of watching her, and marveled at how seriously she took her work and yet was still able to enjoy it. He had witnessed all of her ups-and-downs so far as she tried to forge a career in the culinary arts, and he remembered how excited she was as she ran into his apartment, needing someone to congratulate her on her first job at a real restaurant. He was the first person she had told, and he took her out for dinner to celebrate. He was surprised at how good he felt. It was as if her happiness was infectious. He now knew why she came to mind as his evening disintegrated into yet another dating cliché, his subconscious mind knew that he could use some of her positive energy around him tonight.

He did not want to disturb her, but he began to feel more self-conscious with each second that went by, as he stood there and stared at his friend. It must have looked odd to anyone else who may have spied him there. Some overdressed stalker targeting the hot chef. He finally stepped towards the counter and cleared his throat.

"Health inspector! Reach for the sky!"

Monica looked up at him and wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What?"

Chandler shrugged his shoulders and placed his hands in his pockets. "I don't actually know what health inspectors do."

Monica turned her eyes back down and focused on her work. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a hot date? How did it go?"

Chandler pulled out one hand from his pocket and looked at his watch. "Well, seeing as it is now ten and the date started at nine, I'm going to say, not that good."

Monica looked up and offered him a pair of sympathetic eyes. "Aw. I'm sorry sweetie."

"Anyway, I thought, since I was in the area, and it was almost closing time, that I'd walk home with you."

Monica frowned and gestured with her head towards the lobby of the restaurant. "I'd love that, but it is still busy. I might not get out of here for another hour."

Chandler looked around and saw a newspaper folded up behind the host's station. "Oh, uh, well maybe I'll grab a bite myself. The date ended before we got to eat. Is that okay?" He reached over and grabbed the newspaper, tucking it under his arm.

Monica nodded. "Sure. How about you go sit down over there and I'll whip something up for you."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. We dating disasters have to stick together, right?"

Chandler chuckled lightly and bobbed his head up and down. He turned and slowly walked towards the empty table Monica had directed him to as he looked around the restaurant one more time. Monica pushed the salad she was preparing aside and took out a piece of salmon and began to sprinkle some salt, pepper and lemon zest on it.

"Mmmm. Who is that tall drink of water?"

Monica looked up and smiled as Paula joined her at the station. "Who?"

Paula took the salad, and began to squeeze a lemon wedge over it. She gestured with her chin at Chandler and smiled. "Him."

Monica smirked and laughed. "Chandler?"

"You know that guy?"

"Yes. He lives in my building. I know I've told you about him." Monica grabbed a pair of tongs and put some of the salad from the bowl in front of Paula on a small plate. "He came by to walk home with me after we close up." Monica maneuvered past Paula and around the counter, walking over to Chandler.

Paula watched as Monica placed her hand gently on his shoulder and leaned over him to put the salad she prepared in front of him. Chandler looked up and smiled warmly at her and she gave him a squeeze. His head rested against her hip as she ran her hand through his hair. They talked for a few more minutes and she heard Monica laugh. Paula then strained her ears to eavesdrop.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I have something special for you to make you forget all about tonight."

"Is it a naked woman?"

Monica rolled her eyes and shook her head as she tried to suppress a smile. "No. It's lemon pepper salmon with some roasted potatoes and capers."

Chandler looked down at his plate of salad and then back up at her. "Oh. I guess that's kind of the same thing."

Monica shook her head one more time and turned around to return back to the prep station. Paula looked down and smiled as she shook her head. Monica returned to her position behind the counter and hummed as she reached underneath and pulled up a small bowl of capers. She placed the salmon on the flat grill next to her along with a handful of fingerling potatoes that had been cut in half.

Paula returned her attention to the salad she was mixing and clicked her tongue. "I'm sorry Monica. I didn't realize he was with you."

"What?" Monica narrowed her eyes as she drizzled some olive oil over the potatoes from a squeeze bottle, She then used a wooden spoon to toss them around on the grill.

"You and handsome Dan over there."

"Chandler?" Monica started to trill off laughter and shook her head. "No. We are definitely not together."

"You mean he came here dressed in a suit, looking all fine, and now you're making him your special dish that you told me is why they hired you here, and nothing is going on?"

Monica, kept her eyes on the food she was cooking and snickered. "With Chandler? Oh, no. We're friends."

"Girl, I do not understand you. You spend half your time at work complaining about never finding a guy to date and you have this one right here and that Italian guy you told me about living across the hall from you."

Monica shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Don't get me started on Joey. I mean, he's a nice guy and all, but he's a pig. I would never even think about dating Joey."

"I know. You told me all about the lemonade incident."

Monica winced as she continued to slide the potatoes around. "I still can't drink that anymore without gagging."

Paula laughed, took the salad bowl and placed on the counter. She turned to face Monica and watched her as she sprinkled a pinch of pepper onto the salmon. "So, that Italian fella ain't boyfriend material. What about him?" She pointed with her thumb at Chandler, who was taking small bites from the salad as he read the paper. "I mean, look how carefully he is eating that salad. He even has a napkin in his lap. That's right up your alley."

"Oh, I don't want to give you the wrong impression about him. He's great. He's really sweet and kind and funny and he looks out for me, but, we're just friends." Monica looked over at Chandler and smiled. "Sure, he's handsome, in a kind of boyish way, but, well, I don't know. I don't think about him like that. He's just Chandler to me."

"Boyishly handsome is not a bad thing sweetheart."

"I know. We're friends though. Best friends. You don't think about your best friend like that. Plus, you're seeing this version of him." Monica gestured towards Chandler with her spatula and then returned her attention to the potatoes on the grill, adding a few pieces of sliced onion. "All dressed up and on his best behavior. You don't know how immature he can be. He's a slob. He can be really superficial with women. Do you know, he wouldn't date a girl because she never wore sneakers? He said you can't trust someone who doesn't like their feet to be comfortable."

Paula laughed. "I hate to break it to you darling, but that's what guys are like. They're immature, and they don't always think with their head. More times than not, they'll just think about themselves and not care whose feelings they step on along the way. A good man with a kind heart and a handsome face is not a bad thing to have in your life. Plus, he's tall. I like that."

Monica chuckled. "Hey, you are more than welcome to him. I can put in a good word for you."

"Me? I already have too many irons in the fire to add another one. Plus, I would break a young thing like that. He'd be useless for the next woman."

Monica giggled as she grabbed a twig of rosemary and began pulling off the tiny leaves and sprinkling them over the potatoes. She looked over at Chandler and then leaned towards Paula as she lowered her voice. "You know, when I first met him, I kind of got this little crush on him. He was this older college boy who came home with my brother, and he looked so ridiculous. But I was young and stupid and I thought he was so handsome."

"Really? Did anything happen?"

"Yeah. He called me fat. That was the end of that. Like I said, I was young and stupid."

Paula winced and shook her head. "News alert Mon, you're still young and you're probably going to do more stupid things. Especially when it comes to men."

"I don't want to do stupid things though. I want someone mature, who is ready to make a commitment and who knows what they want in life." She pointed at Chandler again with her spatula. "I don't think that will ever be him. Even if it were, we would never work out. Believe me. You don't know him like I do. Great friend, but not boyfriend material."

Paula nodded as the two women continue to work in silence. Monica removed the salmon from the grill and placed it on a plate, adding a few capers to the top and one more twist of the black pepper grinder. Carefully focused on the aesthetic of the dish.

Paula looked over Monica's shoulder and nodded. "That looks real good. Are you sure nothing is going on between you two? Because I do not cook that good for a man unless he's paying for dinner or he's sleeping with me."

Monica laughed one more time and playfully slapped Paula n the arm. "Will you stop it."

Paula raised her hands up in surrender and smiled. "Okay. Don't sue me because I like the idea of seeing two attractive young people together."

Monica began putting the potatoes onto the plate, arranging them around the salmon, almost creating a symmetric image. She looked down proudly once she was finished. "Hey, I'd love to be with someone who is attractive. If you see someone else, let me know."

Paula chuckled and then placed a slice of lemon over the top of the salmon. Monica smiled at her as she inspected the plate. "There. Now it looks perfect for your not-boyfriend, boyfriend."

Monica narrowed her eyes at Paula, yet allowed a smile to spread across her lips. "Look, Chandler is really great, and I don't know what I would do without him, but we are just friends. We don't think about each other like that. Plus, we are totally incompatible. He doesn't even know what a dust ruffle is!" Monica picked up the plate, walked around Paula and stopped at the entranceway to the lobby. "Dating someone you are friends with never works anyway. Remember, I did that already with Kip. What Chandler and I have, it's too important to screw with by thinking about each other romantically."

Paula raised a skeptical eyebrow and folded her arms. "Mmm-hmm."

"I'm being serious. The last thing you should ever do is go out with someone you are friends with. It makes everything messy and hurts everyone involved. People stop being friends and your entire social circle crumbles." Monica stepped out to the other side and turned to look at Paula one more time. "Plus, he is not my type."

"Okay! Okay! Well go give your friend his dinner that you made special just for him."

"Stop it! I'm just being nice. He had a rough night."

Paula chuckled to herself and watched as Monica walked over to Chandler's table. She washed her hands and leaned against the counter as she observed Chandler's face light up when Monica placed the plate in front of him. He said something she could not hear, but it must have been a compliment of some kind, because she noticed Monica's cheek turn red and she played with her fingers down by her side.

Monica then placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned over him, pointing at what was on the dish. She heard Monica laugh and Chandler looked up at her and smiled. Monica slapped Chandler lightly on the back of the head and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him as she leaned on him. She pulled at the fabric of his suit jacket as they talked and then she nodded and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

When the last customer left for the night, Paula turned to Monica and elbowed her gently. "Hey, I got this. Why don't you go home? He finished eating about a half-hour ago. Now he's just waiting there like some lost puppy."

Monica wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face her. "Are you sure?"

"Are you kidding? You did more than half of the work already. I just have to put these in the walk-in. Go home. Cheer up your friend."

Monica nodded and thanked her as she took off her hat, unbuttoned her jacket, and tossed it over her shoulder. Paula watched as she walked over to Chandler who smiled and stood up as soon as she approached him. When they reached the front door, Chandler removed his suit jacket and wrapped it around Monica's shoulder. She shimmied into it and closed it around herself. Chandler took her coat and hat and carried them for her as they walked out the door.

Paula shook her head and laughed to herself as she looked down and began to organize some of the items on the prep table. She lifted her gaze back up to the front of the lobby and saw Monica turn to wave goodbye to her through the glass door. Chandler bumped his shoulder into her playfully, whispering something to her and Monica shook her head. She huddled up close to him for more warmth and smiled ear-to-ear as they walked past the large picture window of the restaurant. Once they were out of sight, Paula picked up a few of the aluminum tins from the table and rolled her eyes. "Just friends my ass."