My Dinner With The Universe

“Hey Jon, it’s me, The Universe! Hey! Hello! Over here! And here! And, well, everywhere! Hi!”
“*Sigh* Enough already! I know it’s you.”
“Aren’t you going to say hi?”
“Hi.”
“That’s better! Say, on your way out from work, huh? Off to see The Dark Knight in a couple hours?”
“Yes.”
“Excited?”
“Yeah, looks like it’ll be good.”
“And you get to see it a day early…for free! Pretty nice of me, huh?”
“…yeah.”
“What’s with the hesitation?”
“Nothing.”
“No, come on, tell me. What, do you not trust me? Are you suspicious of me doing something nice for you?”
“Well, now that you mention it…”
“Quit being so paranoid. You’ll have a good time.”
“I suppose so.”
“So what are you going to do until it’s time for the movie? Go home?”
“No, it would be kind of silly – and a waste of gas – to go home for a little while and then just turn around and head back to the theater.”
“Yeah, I guess. But what will you do until it’s time to meet up with the others? You’ve got like an hour and a half. Going to stop somewhere to eat?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe just McDonald’s or something.”
“Why not go to Five Guys? You just drove past there.”
“You just answered your own question; I drove past it before I thought about going there, and it’d be a pain in the ass to try to turn around and go back.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. What about that Karate Bagels place?”
“Not really in the mood for any kind of sandwich. And it’s not really called Karate Bagels. In fact they’ve changed the sign so that it doesn’t even look like…”
“Boring! And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.”
“Hey, that’s pretty insensitive. I’m just trying to – ”
“Trying to what? Bore me to death?”
“Fine. Screw you.”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Mr. Sensitive. ‘Boo hoo, The Universe is always picking on me.’ Hey, what about IHOP? You know you’re always up for bacon.”
“Hmm, yeah, that could be okay.”
“Great! Heh heh heh heh.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing! Come on, let’s go to IHOP!”

Ten minutes later.

“See? This was a great idea; there’s hardly anyone here.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what are you going to get?”
“I’m thinking about those Red, White, and Blueberry pancakes with the ultimate bacon and sausage combo thing.”
“Yeah, that’ll be good for your cholesterol. Don’t try blaming me when you have your heart attack.”
“Fine, I won’t.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Hey, this music is pretty awful, huh?”
“Yeah. Some country crap.”
“I think it’s some kind of satellite radio station.”
“Ah.”
“Yep…that plays nothing but love songs.”
“Great.”
“Let me see if I can change it up a little; they don’t restrict themselves to country songs on this station. Here, how’s this?”
“Whitney Houston? Are you kidding me?”
“Come on, it’s a great song. ‘Didn’t we almost have it all…’”
“Gah! Stop it.”
“What? Sing along; I know you know the words. That’s how you’re built. Your brain is designed to soak up pop culture with even the slightest exposure, especially when it’s something that irritates you.”
“Yeah, I know. Great design on your part. I can’t remember what I was doing five minutes ago, but I can call up the lyrics to some crappy song I haven’t heard in twenty years without a problem.”
“Hey, count your blessings.”
“*Sigh* Well, I suppose I should be grateful that it’s not the theme song from The Bodyguard.”
“That’s the spirit! Hey, check this out!”
“Anne Murray? That’s pretty low, even for you.”
“What?”
“If you’re going to make me listen to a love song by a Canadian you could at least make it a song by Sarah McLachlan.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes! Yes, I would.”
“Well, I’ll think about it…umm….no.”
“Oh for the love of – Air Supply? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What? Come on, it’s so sweet and romantic! Listen: Even the nights are better…”
“Shut up!”
“Fine. How’s the food?”
“It’s okay. It’s the company and the ambience that I have a problem with.”
“Ooh, good one, Mr. Snarky!”
“Shut up.”
“Hey, it’s the Backstreet Boys? Or is it N’Sync? Even I can’t keep them straight.”
“Nothing can keep them straight.”
“A gay joke, Jon? Really? Shame on you.”
“I’d like to take this opportunity to refer you back to my earlier statement in which I encouraged you to shut up.”
“Fine, be that way. You won’t hear another peep out of me for the rest of the night.”
“That would be perfect.”

Five minutes later.

“Peep!”