There was an incident in the makeup room yesterday, so artful in its construction, so beautiful in its spontaneity that I am compelled -nay, obligated- to write about it.
Joe, Christina and I were sitting in the dressing room during lunch when Nathan came in. His mouth was open, and he was making sounds of distress. We looked at him, blinked, and watched in disgust as he proceeded to spit a nondescript white glob onto the dressing room floor. He pointed accusingly at said glob, then cried in frustration: "There was a FRITO in my WHIPPED CREAM!!" (Nathan has a habit, you see, of getting lime jello and whipped cream with his lunch every day. I digress.)
At this point, I decided it was wise to go back into the makeup room myself, as I had left my lunch and all my things in there, and if Nathan found another Frito, things could get ugly.
I sat down and was calmly eating my soup when, a mere two feet away, Nathan began gesticulating wildly, roaring, "OH MY GOD. ANOTHER FRITO!!" This one was thrown in the general vicinity of the wastebasket. The rest of us, Felicia, Andy, Christa and myself, tried to calm him down.
"You don't understand!! Fritos are salty and corn...y, and whipped cream is...creamy and sweet! They don't belong together." He appeared to be succumbing to some kind of convulsions at this point, and I was laughing too hard to finish eating. So I deposited one of my own Fritos into his whipped cream.
Once the following tortured cries abated, he proceeded to take a heaping mouthful of Jello, and noisily eat it, whilst leaning about three inches away from me.
"Nathan," I said, "please stay on your side of the counter."
"Nathan," I repeated. "Stay on your side."
(Nathan: *giggle* MYAMYAMYAMYAM.)
I sighed. "Nathan, you are ruining my dining experience."
At this point he stopped, froze, and his eyes widened dangerously. What happened next I can scarcely convey through mere words. He inhaled, lurched forward, and showered the countertop, the wall, the mirror, my shawl, and my purse with masticated green Jello.
The room fell silent.
I looked down and saw that there was Jello on my purse, but I did not say anything. I wanted to laugh, but my mouth was full of food, and I was afraid I would choke. So instead I sort of shook violently and cried tears of mirth. Everytime I almost had control of myself, I would look at the mirror again, and think that it looked like a sordid murder had taken place. Everyone else was laughing too hard to do anything else, aside from look horrified that Nathan had tainted my precious yellow purse (with the peacock on it) with Jello.
After Nathan apologized profusely, and cleaned the wall, the counter, and the mirror, and after I had succeeded in getting most of the vile mess off my possessions, Andy encouraged Nathan to eat the fortune cookie left over from his lunch. Nathan opened it, read the fortune, and blinked several times.
"What does it say?"
(Nathan: *shakes head adamantly*)
"Come on! What does it say?"
He sighed heavily, then read: "Cherish and respect the space of others."
I don't think any more need be said.