“Did you ever have rules when you were first dating someone?”
“No. No, I don’t think so.”
“Really? Because I feel like all girls have rules. Especially when we’re younger, in our 20s.”
“Like what?”
I paused, wondering if I should tell Roo all the ridiculous ‘rules’ my friends and I had while in undergrad. “Well…” I decided to start off slow, “Never display any sort of bodily function in front of them, like burp or fart.”
“Right, because girls don’t poop.”
“Yes. And we also don’t cry while looking in the mirror.”
Roo nodded as he scooped up a piece of broccoli with his fork.
“Also, don’t laugh so hard that you snort or God forbid fart.”
“Didn’t you once -”
“No.”
“When we were walking back from Thai Red Pepper -”
I grabbed a napkin to blot my mouth, “No. That never happened.”
Roo stifled a laugh, “Ok, what else?”
“Don’t sleep with someone before the third date,” I replied, half focused on getting a few sunflower seeds onto the tines of my fork, “And if you do sleep with that person -”
“After the third date of course.”
I smiled, “Yes. If you sleep with that person you must wake up before they do so you can freshen up.”
“Like get rid of swamp mouth?”
“And that oily mess you call your face, yes.”
“Well, what about dinner? You went from talking to that person to sleeping with them. Makes me think you were a bit -”
“Hey! Hey now. Alright, dinner. Well, never order noodles because no one wants to see you slurp and sputter sauce everywhere.”
Roo raised an eyebrow.
“I know, I know. They were ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“What?”
“That last bite you took of soba. I think you got some dressing on your shirt.”
I glanced down to see a giant stain on my right breast. It looked like I was lactating. “Great. See? This is why we have rules.”
