The most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten is seared maitake mushroom steak served with vegetable succotash. My husband and I recently went out to dinner. When I saw this listed in the entree section of the menu, I gasped with delight…and a little bit of horror. It was expensive: $28.
“Should I?” I asked Jesse. “I mean, we’re trying to save money. I mean…should I?”
“Yes.”
***
When I ordered the entree, the waiter shook his head and said, “That’s not a real steak, you know. It’s a mushroom.” I looked at him, smiled and intuitively pointed to “seared maitake mushroom steak” on the menu. I tapped on it for extra emphasis. “I know,” I told him. “That’s why I’m ordering it.”
Then he then looked me in the eyes, slowly blinked and walked away.
In that moment, I felt “seen.”
Not seen for who I think I am — a lady who knows her mushrooms — but seen the way most people see me — which is with little to no respect.
The waiter most likely serves hundreds of diners a week. He probably “sees” each person the second they are seated at his table. The menu isn’t that long — he can probably predict what each of his diners will order and how they will tip.
We all get sized up and thin-sliced every single time we leave the house.
***
Jesse and I recently took a trip to Boston. He had a site visit at the convention center and I was there to research my new play which is set in Boston.
Jesse travels quite a bit for work and knows his way around an airport. Though an efficient traveler, he does not like traveling. A few years ago he told me that traveling has turned him into “a pussy.” He said if was going to continue traveling for work, he was going to have to make some upgrades.
“Oh sure,” I said, not really knowing what “some upgrades” entailed. “Do whatever it takes.”
Soon he had apps downloaded, TSA Precheck, frequent flier points constantly accruing and was traveling in first class. He knows how to pack with one carry-on and one for the overhead bin. It’s rare when he has to check any baggage.
When I knew we would be flying to Boston, I (someone who rarely flies) was excited that I would finally get the chance to observe my man in action. What was Airport Jesse like? What would I learn about my husband of 20 years?
***
At the airport, he whisked me through TSA Precheck and into the United Club Lounge for a hot breakfast. When it was time to board, he leaned into my ear and said, “It’s about to get intense for about twenty minutes.”
I thought that meant our gate would be busy with people lining up to get on the plane. It was, but that’s not what he meant. He meant he would be busy intensely judging people.
Jesse is kind-hearted and fun-loving but also freely admits his cottage industry is “bein’ a dick.” It’s part of how he deals with constantly traveling and constantly dealing with people. We are all always vulnerable — we have to protect ourselves in whatever way makes sense to us. So now that you know that, he here’s how Jesse protects himself.
He proceeded to point out every person who was waiting at our gate:
That’s the old woman who pretends she doesn’t know what she’s doing so she can get to the front of the line.
There’s the cool guy who lines up with Group 1 even though he’s in Group 5. They’ll just let him on because he is always dressed hip.
That lady has too much shit and is going to cause a scene when they tell her she has to check her baggage. She’ll tell them she can’t because she has “breakables.”
Oh he’s the cocky businessman. He’s going to tell anyone who’ll listen how good he is at everything he does.
There’s Hung Over Sports Guy. He’s alone but there’s usually two or three other guys with him.
Then Jesse pointed off into the distance.
Somewhere out there is a rich douche who will board late. He won’t be able to put his bag directly over his seat and he’ll create a whole scene about it.
That skinny 20-something guy with the shitty backpack over there will just cram it in. He won’t be careful with anyone else’s belongings.
See that woman with the fuckin’ dog? Jesus Christ.
The loud, fat kid over there who’s who’s saying hi to everyone? No one wants to talk to him. By the way, I was that kid.
By this point he was almost breathless, but he wasn’t done.
Anyone wearing a fuckin’ mask is annoying.
Business partners — the worst — if they sit across the aisle from each other, they’re going to talk to each other in full voice for the whole fuckin’ flight — always men.
Female equivalent is the bridal party but they’re not on this flight, thank God.
By the time we boarded the plane, Jesse was exhausted from all that thin-slicing. We sat in first class because try as I have to influence him, Jesse will never embrace the Bohemian lifestyle. Within five minutes of sitting down, he fell asleep. I watched every single person he described walk by. His descriptions were spot on. When he woke up, he looked refreshed and downright jubilant.
***
Jesse is not necessarily happier when he travels in first class but he is slightly more comfortable. And instead of having to deal with people the whole flight, he just lets them walk by when he’s snoozing in first class.
***
The Bible says somewhere Judge not lest ye be judged. I don’t care if I’m judged. Neither does Jesse. And judging strangers is how we stay alive. I say go ahead: Judge away and rest easy.
Thanks for reading. -Connie
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Constance Kuntz 