<\/p>\n
Every weekend, we went out to eat. Whether it was at Charlie\u2019s in Bay Head or La Mondina in Brielle.<\/p>\n
\u201cSam, can you pick out a red and a white?\u201d my father always asked, knowing I was the oldest.<\/p>\n
I moved slowly toward our dining room kegerator and grabbed the dual slot carrier–I usually picked based on the simplicity of the label. We are a family of five, so I always felt like the odd man out. The five of us piled into my father\u2019s burnt orange Toyota Tundra pickup as the radio played 80s on 8.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh! Jason and Diana! So wonderful to see you again. And Sam! You\u2019re here this weekend!\u201d the manager at Charlie\u2019s shouted. This felt pretentious.<\/p>\n
The sommelier uncorked the red–my stepmom thought it would pair better than the white with dinner. We all sat in silence, scanning the menu. I didn\u2019t know how to feel about indoor dining now. Everyone peeled their masks off, and I too was obligated–knowing my family was the most judgmental audience. The waiter came with a round of ice waters and two diet cokes–knowing Brooke and Travis wanted them.<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you like to hear our specials for tonight?\u201d My father always replied with a resounding yes.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor appetizers, we have Tuna Tartare with House Pickled Ginger, Sesame Wonton Crisps, Wasabi Mayonnaise, Scallions, and Red Miso Vinaigrette. For dinner, Pan Roasted Halibut with Parmesan Risotto and Lemon-Caperberry Pan Sauce.\u201d<\/p>\n
We thanked the waiter, and he went on his way. This was the moment when my stepmom tried to generate awkward conversation. I hadn\u2019t been there in two months, and we all knew it.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, how\u2019s school, Sam?\u201d I hated saying the same three responses every time. \u201cOh, you know, I\u2019m just tired and want summer to come.\u201d<\/p>\n
The waiter was back to break the conversation, thankfully. It was basically required for us to all order appetizers and<\/em> dinner–I never understood that.<\/p>\n \u201cTake your headphones out, we are at dinner,\u201d my father shouted, as he pretended to parent my younger brother in front of the waiter.<\/p>\n Travis ordered littleneck clams, like always. The rest of us agreed to share their homemade guacamole and chips.<\/p>\n I liked to argue with my dad. He was that traditional white republican that grew up in the 70s and 80s, just to go on and work as a law enforcement officer. I pretended to joke with him–make him think we were on the same page. I reached for the bottle of tap on the center of the table and poured myself a glass, shaking because my biceps were undeveloped. Now we wait.<\/p>\n \u201cSo, how\u2019s school?\u201d my father probed.<\/p>\n Jesus fucking Christ, I thought I already answered this question. Okay, think of something stupid just to satiate him. No, you need something substantial that will lead to maybe one or two follow up questions. But nothing too revealing; we don\u2019t want him to know about the guy you kissed or the beach house you spontaneously rented or the partying you did last weekend or the test you failed.<\/p>\n \u201cOh! I was sent an email yesterday about a writing internship for the fall. My expos Professor recommended me because I got an A in the class. Looks really cool, so I applied\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs it paid?\u201d he followed up.<\/p>\n I never quite understood that. His bottom line was always money and time, but he had an influx of both. I sat there with a pissed look on my face because I just wished he could say congrats and good luck.<\/p>\n \u201cNot sure, haha,\u201d I responded reluctantly.<\/p>\n I thought we were done, but I should\u2019ve known I needed another response prepped. Umm\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cOh, and the other day I got into an argument with a classmate about religion. We really went at it,\u201d I muttered.<\/p>\n We haven\u2019t really talked about this before. Religion. It was always a touchy subject for me, but I never knew why. Maybe because the hypocrisy reminded me of my father. Or maybe because I wished I cared more about having faith.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, really? Cool. Are you thinking of taking a summer class this year?\u201d he responded.<\/p>\n Are you fucking kidding? So, he isn\u2019t going to ask me about what I said or how I felt? Typical.<\/p>\n \u201cUh, I don\u2019t know yet,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n When I say \u201cI don\u2019t know\u201d that means I know exactly what the answer is–I just don\u2019t want to engage right now. But thank god the waiter came with our food. I never really cared for guacamole, so I just sat there and waited for my dinner to arrive.<\/p>\n \u201cSam. Why aren\u2019t you eating?\u201d<\/p>\n I always despised that question because everyone asked it. Whether it was at family dinner, my grandma\u2019s house or with friends, I hated being asked that.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m just not in the mood for that. Plus, I want to save room for dinner.\u201d Truly the most generic answer I could give. The real one would\u2019ve been, \u201cThe amount of anxiety I have from school and life and you are the reasons why I feel too sick to eat right now,\u201d but no one wanted to hear that. So, I ate a couple of chips.<\/p>\n \u201cSo Sam, do you have a boyfriend yet?\u201d my step mother asked.<\/p>\n Oh. My. God. There are five people at this table and for some reason I\u2019m the special guest on tonight\u2019s Dateline episode. I knew the truth and they never would.<\/p>\n \u201cUh, no. It\u2019s really hard to meet people during the pandemic, you know?\u201d I reassured them.<\/p>\n My dad always wanted me to date or have a partner or be happy. The thing is that I was. I didn\u2019t care about that as much as he did. The truth is that I could date if I wanted to.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, so who ordered the lobster roll?\u201d the waiter asked as he floated to our table.<\/p>\n I raised my hand with contentment. We were one step closer to leaving. My father looked at me with proud eyes. He was always happy when it came to food. Or when I reminded him of himself. We thanked the waiter and he left again; only to return in a short while with the check.<\/p>\n My meal felt heavy. Not because it was full of carbs or because my plate was filled but because I was nauseous–again. But this was a $40 lobster roll. So, I took small bites out of the golden-brown buttered brioche only to be met with the succulent taste of freshly caught lobster. Interestingly, expensive dinners reminded me of my family. It doesn\u2019t matter how much my father spends; I would still rather be eating Wendy\u2019s at 2am with my closest friends.<\/p>\n \u201cJesus! Did we break a window?\u201d my father always said jokingly.<\/p>\n I quickly put my mask on and got ready to leave.<\/p>\n We got home and this was the part I hated the most. The feeling of entrapment. The lingering effects of alcohol. And the pressure to choke down my dinner for the second night in a row.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n
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