Chapter Six

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

“An Evening Out”

[WARNING: The following story is irrefutably and undeniably a work of pure, indisputable fiction. Names and characters, including dogs, if any, in addition to places and all incidents are simply the product of the author’s imagination, which can run amok at times, and should not be taken with any degree of seriousness.]


A

t about midday, on the fifth day after arriving at Anderson’s, he came to me and said,

“You know . . . I was wondering if . . . I mean . . . um . . . ,” I could tell he was a little nervous, “ that is . . . would you like to go out to dinner this evening? You can even choose the restaurant.”

What? I thought, He's asking me out to dinner? Maybe my points, by some twist of fate, that I wasn’t aware of, were no longer lingering in the red, but had somehow crossed over into the Anderblue, er . . . I mean . . . the black. Was that even possible, after yesterday’s fire-in-the-kitchen disaster?

Why YES, YES, YES Anderson, do you have ANY idea how excited and simply thrilled and pleased beyond my wildest dreams I would be to accompany you to dinner this evening?— Well, I didn’t exactly say THAT to him. Did you really think I would say THAT to him? . . . to his face . . . while he was looking right at me? . . . with the blue eyes? ARE YOU KIDDING? What I said was,

“Yes, Andy, I'd like to go out to dinner with you, that would be very nice.”

I thought since he was asking me out, I could shift to a more familiar tone and call him Andy, but he promptly corrected my reckless assumption by saying,

“Please, my name is Anderson—NOT ANDY!”

Anderson seemed so formal to me. I mean . . . it's a good name and all, but I decided to call him Andy, anyway. He'd get used to it.

Wow! I thought, I was going on a dinner date with AC himself! And, he even said I could choose the restaurant. So, I began consulting my mental list of New York’s poshest and finest restaurants. But, coming from North Forty, I realized I didn’t HAVE a mental list of New York’s poshest and finest restaurants. In fact, I was familiar with only one eating place in New York City, Sardi's on West 44th St. And the only reason I was familiar with that is because I saw it in a movie once.

No matter, I thought, Andy will have a mental list we can consult. I was so excited that what happened next really came as a total shock.

“Fantastic!” he effervesced, clapping both hands together and placing them next to his lips, his eyes dancing with excitement. He seemed genuinely pleased that I had accepted his offer. In fact, I hadn’t seen him that happy since my arrival. The change in his countenance was remarkable. He continued,

“I have arranged for my chauffeur to call for you at 7:00 P.M., and he will drive you to either McDonald’s or Burger King. The choice is yours.”

He smiled, and as he did so, that smile danced right across his face from one ear to the other. And I . . . well, I was utterly speechless! Disbelief filled my whole being. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I politely said thank you, and I had just started to walk away when he grabbed my hand, halting my retreat.

“Oh, and Ellee . . .”, he pulled me close to him, so close I could feel his breath on my cheeks, our eyes just inches away—mine were fluttering— ,“Order ANYTHING you want . . . and put it on my account.”

What??? I could have fallen over at that point! I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I was going out on the town in NYC,—chauffeur-driven, to either Burger King or McDonald’s—MY choice—order ANYTHING I wanted, and AC was going to pay for it??????!!!!!!!! There was only one thing I could conclude. The Christmas Star was shining down on me !!!!!!!!!!!!! How else could I have been sooooooo fortunate?????

BUT . . . he wasn’t fooling me for one New York minute! Even though I was completely crazy because of him, I could see right through this plot! He was just trying to dump me somewhere for the evening, so he could do whatever it was he was planning to do. But, I am much too clever to let him get away with THAT! I knew from experience that I could down a Triple Whopper with super-sized fries and a super-sized chocolate shake, with two Dutch apple pies and a 64 oz Diet Coke in less than twenty minutes, and still be back to his apartment inside half an hour—which I did, and was. However, when I got back he was already gone, having left a brief note which read:

Have gone for the night. Do NOT expect me back!

Ok, I concede, he did get away with THAT!

Bye for now,
Love,
Ellee