“I want this. You can have the yellow.”
“Screw you, I want red.”
“Red is my colour. If you don’t want yellow, you can have green.”
“Then our bowls will look too Christmassy. I’ll just get a red one too.” I picked up the matching red bowl.
“No.” He snatched the bowl out of my hand. “If we have the same, we won’t be able to tell them apart. Just have the yellow. Yellow’s a great colour.”
“Yellow sucks. I should have red because my name’s Ruby. You can have yellow because it’s a Tex colour.” Then I realized I wouldn’t be sticking around for too long and it was really stupid to be having an argument over bowl colours. It wasn’t like he had red bowls in his old house but who knew, maybe he’d had a red bowl when he was a kid and it was comforting to him.
“Okay, I’ll have the yellow one, but I’m having the red plate and you can have the yellow.”
He actually pouted at that.
“That will get confusing. We can’t just swap colours. We need a system.”
“I guess. We should get the blue and green too in case we have guests.”
Then we both looked at each other and laughed because, what guests?
“You know, Ruby, you are really pretty when you smile.”
Whoa, that caused a whole whirl of confusion in me. For starters, he thought I was pretty. But did that mean I looked like a total pig-dog when I didn’t smile? Maybe it wasn’t that much of a compliment. Maybe it was actually an insult. And, anyway, what right did he have to even bring my looks into the discussion? I was his employee and we had that whole distance thing working for us.
But, he thought I was pretty.