Back when I was pregnant with Ella we spent a long weekend in Indianapolis. It was wonderful, there was so much to do there but my body couldn’t take big walks so I mostly stayed close to the hotel. On Friday night Dan was going to participate in a poker tournament (yes that was pre-planned and ok with me). I decided to take myself on a date. I did my hair, put on a nice crisp white shirt and the fancy necklace I bought from two hippie Wiccan ladies earlier in the day. I went downstairs in the Weston and walked next door to their restaurant with the large outdoor patio. I figured it would be perfect for people watching.
The hostess asked me if I was waiting for someone, I stretched up tall and said “nope just me”. She smiled and said “I love your necklace.” I said “Thank you, my husband bought it for me… in Egypt.” (!!! I’m not sure why that popped out of my mouth but it was kinda fun!!!) She replied “It’s gorgeous.” I was just giggling like mad inside while she led me out to the veranda. The veranda was about half full and I took a table just near the railing to get a fabulous view of the people walking by. I ordered a giant fancy foo-foo banana split with everything and it arrived in no time. If you’ve never seen a pregnant woman with a craving for banana split eat a banana split then I can only describe it as watching someone have a spiritual experience. The banana split was gone in 10 minutes and I asked for a decaf coffee and the check. She came back with the coffee and informed me the man at the next table was buying my ice cream.
First, I had never had anyone offer to buy me a drink, much less a towering heap of ice cream and fruit and syrup so I didn’t know what the protocol here was. Second, did he just watch my eat it and lick the spoon clean and buy the Sunday because he owes me for the show I just put on? Ewwww and hey I’m kinda flattered. Third, it’s a free dessert and free is free. Fourth, maybe he feels bad for the poor pregnant lady al alone in the restaurant and so he’s being nice. So after I had two or three sips of coffee I couldn’t stand it any longer and decided to just thank the man for the ice cream and leave. As I stood up, it became perfectly clear how pregnant I was as my belly poked out, and I heard the man audibly choke on his beer, well, I guessed that ruled out #4, I smiled and said thank you to him and left. As I walked past the veranda from the street side I heard his buddies kinda laughing at him, confirming that I should in fact be flattered.
When my husband made it back from his game, I told him all about my exciting evening and he said “Wow, a free dessert. You probably should’ve said you couldn’t accept it, you were leading that poor guy on.” I replied “Aw, it serves him right hitting on a pregnant lady.” And then we both laughed, but the truth was, I just didn’t know the proper etiquette for dealing with lecherous men who randomly pay for ice cream. In the future I’ll know.