Today's Special is the Jerk-Chicken Salad - Chapter 6: Hurling Whiskey
Betty, Hilda and Gio were seated around one of the tiny wrought iron tables in the dining room. Hilda had the newspaper folded in front of her. Gio had already read the article but Hilda and Betty had not seen it yet. Hilda was eager to know what it said but Betty felt only trepidation about it. Despairing, Betty had her elbows on the table and her face in her hands.
Betty looked forlorn and distressed and Gio wished he could hug her and give her a shoulder to cry on. He was captivated by how pretty she was with her wet, disheveled hair dripping on the white tank top, its scoop neck exposing a flash of red bra and alluring cleavage. He wanted to hold her and comfort her but he knew it would not be appropriate. He wished she could relax and enjoy her visit to his restaurant and not have to worry about the calamity that had brought her there.
All Gio could think of to do was to try to cheer her up. He loved to see her laugh, and he had always joked and kidded with her in the old days. He must lighten her mood. He decided that was how he could best help her. She was in a horrible situation but he must figure out a way to make her laugh about it.
"Ready?" said Hilda.
"No," said Betty. "But I never will be. Start."
Hilda read:
"Meade Melee Puts Bid for UN Post in Peril' – Reuters – April 4, 2012. Story by Alain Jeffries, staff reporter"
"Nice use of the word melee, wouldn't you say?" said Gio, calmly. "Alliteration, clever."
"Gio! Whose side are you on?" said Betty, blushing and covering her face with her hands. "Read it."
Hilda read:
"Meade Foundation Chief Executive Officer Betty Meade's candidacy for membership on the seminal 'Oppressive Cultures and Women' task force in the UN assembly was dealt a possibly fatal blow yesterday when she triggered a security incident yesterday evening on a KLM transatlantic flight between Heathrow and JFK airports."
Betty groaned. "Go on."
Hilda read:
"Numerous first-hand accounts claim that mid-way during the flight, and in full view of cabin crew and passengers, Ms. Meade, 28, proceeded to give her husband of one year, Daniel Meade, Editor-in-Chief of Mode Magazine, a very public dressing down over a suspected infidelity. The flight's head steward was forced to take extraordinary measures to contain the disturbance and airport ground crew delayed the deplaning of all 237 passengers for nearly an hour to allow marshals to perform all the necessary security protocols."
"You're a feisty one, no one will doubt it now," said Gio cheerfully.
"Read," said Betty, silencing Gio with a wave of her hand.
Hilda read:
"Within hours of the flight's touchdown several amateur videos of the spectacle were posted on YouTube, some going viral within minutes. At the time this article went to press a search in YouTube of 'Meade Meltdown' found over a dozen different videos of the scene."
"Meltdown," said Gio. "Another alliteration. The name Meade really works."
"Shut up," said Betty, punching Gio's shoulder.
"Did you see the video?" asked Hilda.
"No," said Gio. "I would've but I don't have internet."
"Apparently it's really something," said Hilda. "We haven't seen it but Bobby texted me."
"I'd like to see it," said Gio. "Betty, show me what happened."
"Are you nuts?" said Betty. "I'm trying to forget what happened!"
"Face it," said Gio. "You won't be able to. So, you might as well come to terms with it. It sounds like you were quite entertaining."
"By all accounts," said Hilda. "Come on, Betty. How about a reenactment?"
"Yeah, do it," said Gio encouragingly.
"Oh, alright," said Betty, sighing, and standing up. "Things can't get any worse than they already are."
"Okay, you'll be Daniel," said Betty, walking to Gio's side.
Gio looked up at her from his chair and pretended to cower.
Betty laughed, "Sit up. You don't know what I'm going to do to you yet!"
Gio straightened up.
"First, I scream," said Betty. She screamed out Daniel's full name with disgusted rage.
Gio covered his ears.
"For future reference," said Betty, "this is not a good opening for something you don't want people to videotape."
Gio looked up at Betty and folded his hands on his lap.
"Then I grab your whiskey and I hurl it into your face." Betty snatched at the air above Gio's hand and flung her open hand at his face.
Gio shrank back, crossing his hands in front of his face, palms out.
Betty shouted loudly and angrily, "Why you no-good, lying, cheating, two-timing, bastard!"
"Sounds like a country song," said Gio, grinning and putting his hands down.
Betty giggled and, grabbing his shoulders, shoved him onto the floor. She stood over him, one foot on either side of his body, leaning down and holding her fist in his face.
"You son of a bitch!" shouted Betty. "Don't you ever, ever-"
"Help me, Hilda!" Writhing in mock terror, Gio covered his head with his arms, making Betty laugh.
"That's about the point when the first cabin steward became involved."
"There was more than one?" exclaimed Gio, looking up at her from the floor.
"Oh, yeah," said Betty. "If my name started with an 'f' they would've called it a fracas."
You go girl, thought Gio, laughing exuberantly.
"That's about it," said Betty, sitting down. "That's the best part anyway. In the next part you'd wrestle me to the floor while I yell at you, punch you, and try to kick your butt."
"Mmm," growled Gio. "That might be fun."
Betty laughed. "It's not nearly as much fun as it sounds."
Gio got up from the floor. "Are you Tiger Woods-ing me?" he said in falsetto, mimicking Betty's voice. "Don't you dare transgress on me!"
Betty and Hilda laughed.
"I don't think my version will make a good country song," said Gio, sitting on his chair. "So, you win."
Betty chuckled, and said, "Read more."
Hilda read:
"Ms. Meade was returning to New York from chairing the summit 'Education is for ALL Girls', in Vienna, Austria, for an interview on 'Good Morning New York' tomorrow. Doubts are being raised as to whether or not she will appear, due to the sudden departure of Ms. Meade from New York. Immediately after she was released from security at JFK, she was seen entering the international boarding gates with an unidentified companion."
"That would be me," said Hilda. "Unidentified companion!"
Gio turned to Betty. "You should go on TV. Don't skip it. If you catch a flight tonight you can make it back to New York in time."
"I don't want to," said Betty. "I just want to avoid everything."
"The best damage control is to wade back in and climb in the saddle."
"Mixed metaphor," said Betty, smiling.
"I can't get anything by you," said Gio, grinning and winking at her.
"Read it," said Betty.
Hilda read:
"Pundits have long considered Ms. Meade a virtual shoe-in for the UN post due to her notable compassion, dedication, intelligence and expertly honed word-smithing skills. Ms. Meade, a college-educated Mexican-American woman from a working-class single parent family, spent her distinguished career climbing the ranks at two top ranked magazines at a rapid pace, proving that, while young in age she is a gifted tactician, making her an eminently suitable candidate for this particular Task Force.
"New York City's Homelessness Committee Chair Sarah Rodriguez said, 'Ms. Meade is a tireless advocate for the disadvantaged. Always well-respected, well-liked, tactful, polite, and kind, she is a woman with a remarkable personality, driven by passion and her oft-cited personal mantra: I want to make the world a better place.'"
"Aw," said Gio. "See, this story isn't all bad. I wish I had a personal mantra."
Betty sat up straight. "Am I still a 'virtual shoe-in'?"
"Everyone likes you," said Hilda, paraphrasing Sally Field's widely ridiculed Oscar acceptance speech. "They really, really like you."
Everyone laughed.
"Read," said Betty.
Hilda read:
"Almost immediately, several women came forward to allege illicit affairs with Mr. Meade, who traveled to Vienna with Ms. Meade for a ski holiday, but their names are being withheld until after the investigation confirming the veracity of their claims is complete."
"Bummer," said Gio. "But everyone knows those ladies are getting paid by the tabloids. They're lying. Note the use of the word 'allege'. It couldn't happen to you."
"Well," said Hilda, "it happened to a Swedish model and to Sandra Bullock."
Gio frowned at Hilda.
Hilda said, "I'm just saying."
"Sandra's a beautiful movie star!" cried Betty. "I'm fat and ugly."
"No," breathed Gio and Hilda, leaning towards Betty. "No!"
Her face blotchy from distress, Betty frowned. Elbows on the table, chin on her hands, she leaned in close to them, and whispered, "I'm going to let you in on a piece of insider information."
Gio and Hilda listened attentively.
"I know at least one woman is not lying."
Gio and Hilda gasped.
"Poor baby," said Hilda, patting Betty's hand.
Gio looked at Betty sympathetically. It tortured him to see her in pain. What kind of man would cheat on her? He clenched his fists and imagined punching Daniel's lights out. Someone might be able to make a joke about this, but Gio could not. Making light of this despicable act was impossible.
"Go on," said Betty.
Hilda read:
"The UN's 'Oppressive Cultures and Women' Task Force champions women's rights to equal education, family planning, healthcare, and other basic human rights, focusing on issues specific to countries where the cultural climate against women is particularly oppressive."
"This is what I want to do," said Betty. "This work will be the most important thing I could ever do! I have a lot to offer and I care about these issues so much."
"You're so passionate about this," said Gio, his face shining with pride. "It's truly admirable."
"It was destiny! I was meant to be on this committee. I feel it in my bones! I would've helped to so many women by being on it."
"It's not lost yet," said Gio, smiling encouragingly. "Don't give up."
"Read on," said Betty. Sighing, she pushed the hair back from her face and rested her arms on the table.
Hilda read:
"An anonymous UN insider leaked that confidence in Ms. Meade's candidacy is plummeting and her bid may be irreparably damaged if she fails to appear on 'Good Morning New York' tomorrow. Other sources reveal attention has shifted to her chief rival, Rajpal Singh, 72, a Pakistani-born Sikh woman raised in London, England, who, although not as highly educated as Ms. Meade, is considered an extremely experienced and skilled negotiator, selfless and dedicated, and has often been compared favorably to Mother Theresa."
"That's it," said Hilda.
"Mother Theresa," wailed Betty. "I love Rajpal, everyone loves her. And she's done so much already she's practically a saint. But I want a chance! Oh, how can I compete with a Mother Theresa?"
"I think you're a way better choice," said Hilda. "I'm sure lots of people do."
"But what chance do I have after making such a fool of myself? Everyone is watching me on YouTube and laughing at me."
"No, they aren't," said Hilda. "I bet every woman on the planet has either torn a strip off their husband at one time or another or wished they did. A lot of the people watching the video are not laughing at you, they're cheering for you. You really laid into him."
"Really?" said Betty. "You think so?"
"You're an inspiration," said Gio. "And go for the sympathy vote. Milk it! Go on TV and keep your chin up. Show them what you're made of. Talk to them about how much this task force means to you, like you did just now. That'll get people's attention. Then they'll see how amazing you are."
"I don't know," said Betty. "I'm not sure I'm ready to face Daniel, New York, the tabloid paparazzi, and a TV show yet. I don't want to leave the Bahamas until I make a decision about Daniel. Am I going to leave him? If he doesn't change, I will. I'm too angry to think about him. I don't want to talk about it yet."
"Then we'll talk about it after we eat," said Gio, standing up. "Who's interested in hearing about the breakfast specials at Giovanni's?"
"Me!" screamed Betty and Hilda, clapping their hands gleefully and jumping up.