the price of breakfast

The booth became smaller as my grandfather turned talk to religion and marriage. “You need to find a good church and a nice girl to be your wife.” The song “gives you hell” was playing my mind, which only made me think of becoming famous, so that all the past girls would regret , though I knew I was kidding myself, though if I let him just keep talking he would think I was soaking it all in never imagining I was thinking about what my next failed relationship was going to be like, and how we’d run across the country before we got bored with each other. “Denton Bible Church has a large congregation. You should be able to find a nice girl there, though I can’t say anything about whether their theology is sound or not. You’ll have to look into that.” I didn’t tell him that it had been over 4 years since I had been to a church, and that I wasn’t planning on it anytime soon.
As our meals were brought and my coffee refilled, I realized this was why he had invited me out to breakfast, but I rarely turned down a free meal, and this was a valid excuse for being late for work. My father owed my grandfather money, so my father went along with whatever my grandfather said.
Then he asked me what worldview I was taught, and I’ve studied religion enough to bullshit my way through this discussion, I knew, and he was satisfied with my answer. I hoped it would end there because I was full and already had 5 cups of coffee, but no. “Your grandmother and I were both virgins when we got married.” I wanted to tell him that maybe he should have had this conversation with me 10 years ago, but instead I kept listening to the song in my head. “I started praying that God would prepare the right woman for me when I was a boy, and I knew she was the one because I tested it.” Grrreat, another grandpa story. This was going to take at least half an hour, but at least I would skip more work. It would have been worse if he had invited me to his church, but luckily there are no single girls my age there.
I ended up getting to work at 10 when I was supposed to be there at 8, and what was even better was that grandfather needed a ride to the airport, and Simon smokes too much, so that only left me. At 11 I was off to take grandpa to Love Field having only accomplished checking my email. Luckily the conversation was politics, on the ride to the airport, and I laughed to myself thinking that if we were in a bar we would covered every topic you’re not supposed to talk about.