Since this supper was a little impromptu, I was cooking from whatever I could find in the kitchen: Hot Italian sausages, perogies, brown beans in a maple syrup sauce. One of my favourite suppers, but probably not what I would normally prepare for our Lord.
As I was frying up the sausages, Jeff had a question for me. “Hey, Paul. What’s wrong with the clothes I wear?”
I looked him over. “Mm. What do you mean? It’s all black: It all matches.”
“When I was walking here, I thought I noticed a few people looking at me. Does all black make some sort of statement?”
“No worries, dude. You didn’t invent black clothing. They probably aren’t looking. I’ve decided that people really don’t care about what I’m doing or wearing, so I’m probably just imagining it if they look at me.”
Jeff reflected. “Well sure, but you dress so nicely.”
I thought about my closet full of blue jeans and plain t-shirts, and my two battered pair of shoes. Not sure I’ve ever been described as dressing nicely. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I’m thinking of trying out some different headgear. Maybe a fedora or a porkpie?”
“Dude, you’re totally talking to the wrong guy. I wear a toque all winter to keep my dome warm, and a bandanna all summer to keep it from getting burned. I’m probably not the guy you should talk to about making a statement with fashionable hats. Porkpies are cool though; that’s what Tom Waits wears.”
He thought about this for a second. “Waits is cool – in a rumpled kind of way. Maybe I’ll try the porkpie hat. Do you think I’ll blend in better then?”
I started serving up our meal. “Without a doubt. Beans beside, or on top of, the sausages?”
“Crushed peppers for the perogies?”
“Cool. Please pass the bottle.”
Jeff passed me a fresh bottle of goat piss. “Do you think I should wear something other than this London Calling t-shirt once in a while?”
“‘Tis a great album. As long as you don’t stink, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Why the sudden interest in fashion?”
He paused. “Um … I’ve found a female of the opposite sex who I would like to attract. Do women like men who dress like this?”
A-ha! And now we get down to it. “As long as you’re not dressing ridiculously – and you’re not – then you shouldn’t worry about whether she’ll like the way you dress. If she is going to judge you poorly by the fact that you’re wearing what you think is cool, then she isn’t worth it.”
Oops, sounded a little too much like a dad there. I may have had this exact same conversation with one of my kids at some point.
Jeff looked defiant. “Yeah, god damn it! Why should I change to impress her? I’m pretty cool – and I’m the Supreme Being, for Christ’s sake!”
“That’s the (holy) spirit! You just need to be comfortable with you.”
Am I really giving fashion/romance advice to the Creator of the Universe? The needle on the Irony Meter was flying past the red zone.
Jeff swallowed. “This is the best frigging supper you’ve ever made! I love this stuff.”
Sausages, beans and perogies: Who knew?
“Please pass the bottle.”