California rolls are for the low class- Steve

My first impression of my Moms new boyfriend was that he looks like Hershel from the Walking Dead. If  Walking Dead Hershel had a southern Texas accent he would be a dead ringer for Steve.

More first impressions?
-Boring

-Old enough to  be my grandpa

His house was huge. It had a whole Spanish-American look going on. Before we could even drive into the house we got checked by a security card who had to confirm our names and the exact time we were coming. I find it highly interesting that the first thing my Mom had us do when the introductions were made and we were inside was show Lizzy and I the guest bedrooms. “In case we want to spend the night.” We’ve just met the man, she’s only been going out with him for a few weeks, but it looks like she’s already planning on moving in.

He had a huge walk in closet, a cowboy style bedroom with a giant painting of two Mexican girls waiting for a bus in pastel, and he likes to collect different brands of wine from all over the world.

He also drives a Tesla.

Side note: I do not care for cares. Not really. I don’t know much besides- Truck, Jeep, Honda, Ford Focus, Mercedes, Mustang, Sports car, and Tesla.

Tesla’s drive themselves.

The only other time I’ve seen one is at the mall. Dad and I sat in one and thought about how damn expensive and freaking cool they were.

The car drove itself to the Sushi restaurant.

I was sort of freaking out the whole way. It steered, it stopped, it was so quiet and smooth. I never would have ever dreamed of sitting in something like that.

For some reason Mom told Steve that I was interested in journalism and so Steve talked to me a lot about this granddaughter who is studying journalism and spent a semester abroad in Paris. I said: “That’s great, but I actually want to be a nurse practitioner, not a journalist.” The granddaughter and a friend are coming up on Thursday, and he offered in a few Fridays to take us all out on a Yacht.

I’ve never been on a Yacht before either.

Clearly my Mom has a type: rich old white guys. I’m okay with it though. He’s nice, and kind. Even if I have a feeling that my Mom is mostly in on it for the money. Money is a biiiiiigggg deal to her. The whole time I was giving him questioning looks and in my head thinking can’t you see that my Mom really really likes money? That she’s self absorbed, vain, and spoiled? Maybe he was too wrapped up in her Australian accent. He talked about how wonderful the Australian people were-as business men. He went on about how sweet and kind my Mom is and how they had a connection and how she is a role model. If only he knew her like I did. Yes my Mom can be kind, considerate, sweet, and generous. She’s also crazy.

He’s been to Japan a lot and he told us some stories. He was once driving to a hotel and he saw a vending machine in the middle of nowhere. He had them stop (and at the time he didn’t realize) if they were late than the taxi man would lose his job. He saw the vending machine was full of beer and wine. Loose money was in there too. He asked the man why loose money was in the vending machine, and the Japanese man responded with: Oh. It gives too much change.

Too much change. So the people put back the extra they were given so that they have the right amount.

Who does that? People in America would take that extra money, they would take the entire vending machine, but these people would never even think about doing that.

The legal drinking age is 18 in Japan. There is no card or identification on those vending machines either so Steve asked how they kept underage kids from drinking. The Japanese man looked at him like he was crazy and said: Why would they drink? They’re not 18.

Apparently though the Japanese like to put unborn baby eels in your food to see how the “round eyes” will react to it. Steve kept his cool and earned mad respect, while his other “round eyes” found it disgusting.

As we walked into the Sushi restaurant Steve remarked that California rolls were for the low class. I love California rolls. I guess I’m trash then. I didn’t take it seriously though. We had Bluefin, Monk fish liver, and a very fine piece of salmon from the belly. Green tea ice cream too. It was good.

I think Steve liked my sister a lot more than me. She’s smaller than me and more child like. I’m more quiet and thoughtful.

Steve makes cabinets. Mom’s old ex made cabinets too. I couldn’t help but think of him and wonder how he was doing. He was kind, a little arrogant, but in a different kind of way. Steve talked about how he was with a billion dollar company. something like that, he’s met George Lucas, Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones-he’s super well connected. It struck me kind of then that when men talk about success- how intelligent they are, how much money they make- it doesn’t sound like bragging. It’s impressive. But when woman do it then we sound conceited. Maybe I’ve got it wrong though? I don’t know. Just something I’ve noticed.

 

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