It’s All About Compromise…Usually Mine

“I want Indian for dinner,” I told Matt Thursday night. My day had been rough and I wanted to drown my sorrows in the rich, spicy goodness of vegetable korma and malai kofta.

“Okay,” he told me, not even looking up from yet another rousing game of Halo 3.

Some time later, after complaining of starving, my blood sugar, and wasting away (in that order), I managed to coax him away from the TV and away from the addictive properties of X-Box Live. I was practically giddy with delight (and relief) by the time we pulled out of the apartment complex (he managed to avoid parked cars), but the expression of glee fell from my face as he pulled into the parking lot of Subway.

“I meant Golden India, Matt, not an Indian owned and operated Subway!”

“I don’t feel like having Indian,” he said simply before getting out of the truck; that, it would seem, was that. I ate my spicy Italian in stony silence, and swore I’d scald him with piping hot palak paneer the very first chance I got.

Earlier in the week…

“Hello?” I said into my phone, but only after I’d gotten several dirty looks from the snooty shoppers I’d disrupted with my potentially obnoxious J.Lo ring tone.

“Are you out of class for the day?” Matt asked.

“Yes,” I said warily, hoping he wasn’t about to rope me into a favor.

“Are you at home?”

“No,” I hedged.

“Where are you?”

“Dillard’s, in the Oak Court mall.”

Silence, and then, “Are you in the purse section?”

“Maybe…”

“No. Whatever it is, you can’t have it,” he said immediately.

“I didn’t even ask for anything!” I wailed.

“But you were going to.”

“Well…”

“See?” He crowed triumphantly.

“There’s this red suede bag,” I started. “It’s big and soft and is the most divine thing I’ve ever seen (except for the Coach purse I’d been drooling over mere moments before, oh, and the fabulous Kenneth Cole…). It’s Lucky Brand, and only $148. I need it.”

“No.”

The refusal was flat and final. I knew better than to argue.

“I’m going to pawn your X-Box and buy it anyway,” I told him. We both knew it was a lie.

Two days later, at Target, I found a reasonable enough reproduction at the Matt-friendly, bargain price of $19.99. Of course, I bought it, and, of course, Matt hasn’t said a word about it.