Anthony is the one that seems to be doing the best of all my proteges.
Of course, that's like comparing war crimes.
Still, I had a lot of faith in Anthony. That's why when he told me he was having dinner with Chet, his idiot ex-boyfriend, I wasn't all that worried.
ME: So how do you think the dinner is going to go?
ANTHONY: Real good. I'm going to make him think we're cool and then shank him with the butter knife.
ME: Uh...maybe I'd better come along.
This seemed like a great time to teach Anthony about being civil to an ex.
We met up at Bravo and, of course, Chet was running late.
ANTHONY: So no cussing him out?
ANTHONY: No telling him he sucked in bed?
ME: Anthony--Wait, he sucked in bed?
ME: Just avoid sex talk altogether.
ANTHONY: Can I spill red wine on him? That shit doesn't come out.
ME: I might allow that one depending on how annoying he is.
Right on cue--
CHET: So I get two hotties for the price of one?
I immediately ordered a red wine.
Dinner went as follows:
Chet would say something stupid.
Anthony would start to tell Chet he was stupid.
I would pinch Anthony under the table.
Anthony would say something civil instead.
I would feel pride bursting through me like a crazy little league parent when their kid purposefully hits the batter with a ball.
Everything was going great right up until the end. Chet even paid for dinner, which was nice.
...Somewhat too nice.
CHET: We should do this again.
ANTHONY: Yeah, it was...not awful.
CHET: Maybe I should bring my new boyfriend next time.
ANTHONY: You got a new boyfriend?
CHET: Yeah, Moss Lewis.
ME: Someone is actually named Moss?
ANTHONY: That's my ex-boyfriend--my OTHER ex-boyfriend.
CHET: Yeah, I Facebooked him. We hung out. Amazing body.
ANTHONY: Uh--I know.
This was when I saw him glance at the butter knife, so I dragged him away with a fleeting "So long" to Chet.
Once we were back in his car, I realized letting him drive was not the best idea, but he already had the key in the ignition.
ANTHONY: That f**king cockjockey!
ME: Do you actually miss this Mildew?
ANTHONY: That's not the--it's Moss!
ME: It's still not pleasant.
We turned onto Broad Street just as--lo and behold--Chet was crossing the street.
ME: Don't do it.
ANTHONY: Can't I just tap him?
ME: Tapping is called vehicular manslaughter, Anthony.
Luckily, Chet made it across the street and Anthony kept driving.
ANTHONY: Guess I'm flunking keeping my temper in check, huh?
ME: No flunking would have been running the dickhead over just now.
ANTHONY: I always was a C-student.
Funny. I was always an easy grader.