"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, I mean, I like the song and all, but it really doesn't tell us much, does it? Other than that she kissed a girl and liked it. I mean, we know that much, because she says it about a gazillion times."
"What else do you want to know?"
"Well, in the first place, why isn't she sure that her boyfriend would mind it? Most straight guys love the thought of their girlfriend getting it on with another girl. In fact, the only reason I can think of that he would mind it is because he couldn't watch. You know?"
Corb grinned and walked through the automatic door. "What else do you want to know?"
"Does she actually like the taste of the cherry chapstick? She doesn't really say. I mean, I guess she does, since she liked the kiss. But she doesn't really say so, she just keeps mentioning that she was wearing it. Maybe she liked kissing her but found the taste annoying?"
"I think she liked it, Ted."
"But how can you be sure? And also, where was her boyfriend? She really should have tried it in front of him. I keep thinking of her like she's one of those college girls who get all drunk and snog with their friends. He'd be perfectly cool with that, I'm sure."
"Unless, she feels guilty about the whole thing. Do you think she feels guilty about the whole thing? maybe she liked it more than she wants to admit."
Corb stared at me, cooly, for a moment. "Anyway. What do you want to eat, tonight?"
The next night we ended up eating at 99. The restaurant was just about to go through a refurbishment, so that they could make it brand-ier, which I think, personally, is a stinking shame. Now THAT's exactly what we need in this world, he says, sarcastically. More brand awareness.
As a result, they were holding a silent auction, to sell off the kitschy items on their walls and ceilings, for charity. Corb pointed out a few items that he'd like to take home with him.
My eyes focused on a sign in the far end of the restaurant, advertising a Lobster Pot company. It had a large red lobster in the center, carved out from a wood frame.
"I want that lobster," I said. "Only, I wish it was large and more three dimensional, so that the claws would stick out."
Corb grabbed a handful of popcorn. We were waiting for dinner to arrive. "Why do you want that, Ted?"
"You know in those old horror movies, where there are those paintings on the wall where the eyes follow you? I'd want a lobster sign that I could hang on my wall, and I could hide behind it, and operate the claws so that they could pinch people on the nose, by surprise."
"You are completely insane, you realize," said Corb.
"What's so bad about that?" I asked. "I think it'd be fun."
A few minutes, he caught me staring at the lobster again. "What now?" he asked.
"I've changed my mind about the lobster," I said. "I want to put a bee's nest behind it."
"Why in the hell would you want to do that?" he asked.
"So you could pull a claw a honey would squirt out," I replied. "That would be useful, I think."
"Who in the hell would want that much honey?" he asked.
"Okay then. Fair enough." I paused for a moment, and then it hit me. "Okay, the other claw could pour out maple syrup. That'd be good for pancakes, don't you think?"
"Oh, So you're going to have a maple tree behind the sign?"
"Nope, just a beehive," I said. "I think we could get some of them to create maple syrup. They're industrious little fellows. I think if we gave them that as a goal, they could handle it, don't you?"
Oddly enough, Corb wasn't convinced. Seriously, I think we could make a fortune with some of these ideas.