Fish Lips and Strange Behavior

 

Choosing to go for a ride, Terry and I ended up in Bandon, a beautiful spot along the Oregon coastline that sits a couple of hours (or close to it) away from home. We arrived and it was absolutely gorgeous. The horseback riding took place here, for those who have read the blog, and the day was beautiful. A bit windy, but the sun was out and the views stunning. 

After riding horses and sharing yet another great time together, we grew hungry. Our primitive instincts kicked in and we began our tribal hunt for a place to eat. Terry knew of a good restaurant not far from where we were, so we pulled into the parking lot, anticipating a hot meal in front of us at any moment. 

As usual, Terry was a complete gentleman and opened the door for me. I stepped into a relaxing atmosphere with clean tables and a good number of smiling, happy customers sitting at them. We were escorted to a table in the back. Terry pulled my chair out, waited for me to sit, then pushed the chair closer to the table. My first thought was, "Wow, he's such a gentleman!" Our relationship was new, and I wasn't quite used to the manners from a man. It was unique, yet odd, but gratefully accepted and appreciated. 

He made sure I was settled in my seat and then walked around the table to sit in his own chair. Pulling the chair away from the table, he gracefully adjusted himself in his seat. Just as soon as he sat, I looked up to talk about our day of horseback riding. In an attempt to connect with Terry's eyes to begin chatting, I noticed something was not right. There was movement. 

Terry was moving further away from our table. I was confused. His sliding backward across the floor in his chair was not only inconvenient, but also quite odd. His eyes were huge, his mouth agape. Staring into his eyes for what seemed like a long time but was actually only seconds, I realized his chair was rushing backward toward a table in the very back of the eatery. My brain could not comprehend what was happening, but one thing was very clear; the man was on the move. I had just met this man. I didn't want him going anywhere. 

Through no fault of his own, my sweet man was being held hostage in a chair that had a mind of its own. I couldn't figure out how or what exactly was going on, but it was happening. Terry's runaway adventure finally ended when the back of his seat bashed into another patron's chair across the room from our table. He had unwillingly traveled the length of the restaurant. With a look of complete horror on his face, Terry turned and told the man, "Sorry. I'm so sorry." 

The young man turned and told Terry, "It's okay." But there were strange looks and a little bit of laughter coming from members of that dinner party. With all the stateliness Terry could muster, he began to scoot himself back to me by using the heels of his feet to dig into the floor. It dawned on me at that moment that the floor was not carpeted, and the chairs had wheels on them. Not a great choice on behalf of the owner of the establishment, I must say. 

As what created the movement of Terry and the chair became clear and knowing neither Terry nor anyone else was injured, I began to laugh. Not just laugh but was having difficulty breathing due to the robust fits coming from deep inside of me. My gut twisted and turned due to the spasming of muscles during these moments of laughter. Tears streamed down my face. I gasped for air in between the bouts of uncontrollable laughter. By this time, the other table deduced what was happening as well. I could tell by the laughter coming from what I assumed was the young man's mother and father. 

Terry pushed his chair to our table, only to find me unable to say a word. I was still making the attempt to catch my breath. Having a great sense of humor, Terry began to laugh with me. He asked, "Am I ever going to live this down?" The shaking of my head was all I could give as a reply. The voice was unable to come through the convulsions. 

While we were eating, I laughed each time I thought of the traveling chair, although Terry was vindicated soon after the event when he ordered a plate of calamari. I cannot stand the aroma of the seafood dish and it wafted my way several times during the meal. Watching him show signs of bliss each time he took a bite was enough to halt the laughter for the time being at least. I did remind my sweet man that he was not kissing me for the rest of the day or at least until he brushed his teeth, using Lysol. 

Every time the image of his face came into my mind on the way home and for weeks after, my gut twisted up once again as the howling continued. I just could not stop. To this day I break into fits when I think about that memory. The chair experience happened just a week after the Arby's incident, and it was significant in letting us know we would be sharing a lot of laughter during our lives together. We had one more memory to bond over. One more reason showing us we belong together. Our experiences, so far, have been ones associated with happiness, sometimes a bit of frustration but not at each other, and hilarity. So far, a great combination. I feel true love can expand out of good times and laughter. If that is the case, I know we are headed toward an amazing life, bonded as one.