“I can’t go, it’s too quiet; you’ll hear me pee.”
The room suddenly fills with his laughter and I want to go back out and junk punch him. “It's not funny, asshole! I’m desperate.”
“Well, then, just go.”
“What part did you not just understand? Can you make some noise or something? I know, sing. Really loud.”
“What? Blair you’re being ridiculous.”
I’m about to cry. I need to go so bad it hurts. I hear him exhale dramatically and shuffle about.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this…. Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you...” I can’t help but giggle as the room fills with the sound of him singing.
“Babe, why are you singing Happy Birthday?” I shout.
“Why are you not peeing? It’s the first song that came into my head; forgive me for not having a set list prepared for bathroom serenades. Now hurry up and go!” He shouts back before starting to sing Happy Birthday again.
AS SOON AS the door opens and I step out from the cubicle the singing stops. We eye each other for a moment shrouded in an awkward silence.
“Tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you!” I narrow my eyes for effect. I have a pretty good feeling that this won’t make it on the things to brag about list.
We stare at each other for a few seconds before my resolve breaks and I can feel the smile I’m trying to hide make an appearance. That’s all it takes for Ethan to throw his head back and laugh his ass off. I’m laughing, too, at how stupid this situation is. I walk over to the basin and run my hands under the freezing cold water.
“You know, whenever I’ve dreamt about guys singing to me, it’s never been Happy Birthday in a toilet block at some gross truck stop to drown out the sound of me peeing. I feel kind of cheated out of my fantasy,” I tell him as he’s struggling to regain his composure.
“I’m sorry I didn’t quite meet the fantasy. I suppose you could always tell me some more and see if I can live up to those.”
“You’re a perv, Ethan Jamison. How do you always manage to make things sound so sexual?”
“It's a gift,” he says, winking at me and placing his hand to the base of my back before guiding me outside.
“Besides, this one will be fun to tell the grandkids.” He takes the ridiculous key and lid out of the door and heads back towards the store to hand it in.
I’m standing frozen to the spot. Tell the grandkids. I’m all kinds of giddy that he’s contemplated a future for us that involves grandchildren. I look back towards his retreating form and mentally high-five myself that I’ve found a keeper.
Five hours is a long time to be in a car with someone and not get bored. I appreciate that, really I do. But if Ethan tells me he’s bored one more time, I may have to eject him from the car while it’s still moving.
“Can we play another game?” he asks, turning the volume down on the radio. We’ve already exhausted I Spy, Have you Ever and the Yes and No game. The volume display flashes to number fifteen and he pulls his hand away and places it back on the steering wheel.
I look to the display, then to Ethan, then back to the display again. I tell myself to leave it and place my hands under my thighs. I am literally itching to reach out to the volume controller and change it. I bounce my legs up and down a few times then look at display again and finally back to Ethan. He’s watching me from the corner of his eye as he’s driving. He looks amused. Asshole.
“I can’t take it!” I announce. “You can’t leave it on an odd number.” I lean forward and adjust the dial to read sixteen.
Ethan’s wearing a shit-eating grin and mouthing ‘weirdo’ to himself. If it weren’t for the fact that I think we’d probably crash and die since he’s driving, I’d punch him.
“I’m not a weirdo, I just don’t like things set on odd numbers.”
“And that makes you completely normal and not weird at all.”
“Absolutely!”
“How did I not notice this about you?” he muses. “Okay…so me doing this won’t bother you if you're not a weirdo.” He switches the volume to seventeen and sits back looking smug. I’m nothing if not stubborn and I don’t want him to know how much the fact that he’s just done that, drives me crazy. I lean back and feign indifference to his actions.
“Eat your words smart-ass. Leave it on seventeen for all I care.”
We drive for fifteen minutes without speaking to each other, listening to the radio before I cave.
“Ugh, you win Ethan, put it on sixteen before I start having palpitations.”
“You lasted way longer than I thought you would, I didn’t realize you were one of those O.C.D. types. I bet that was killing you, wasn’t it?”
“I hate how well you know me.”