What in the world are you thinking of

Laughing in the face of love?

What on earth are you trying to do

It’s up to you, yeah you

The tone of the romance was set the very first night.  Jim had wanted everything to be perfect.  It was a night he had thought about and dreamt about forever and he was alternating between being a complete nervous wreck and talking himself down and trying to be cool.  Pam’s coming over for dinner.  I’m making dinner and Pam will be here and I think we both know what’s going to happen.

He’s trying to keep it simple.  Grilled steaks, Caesar salad, wine.  He can’t screw this up and there won’t be a mess in the kitchen and they can talk outside while he grills the steaks.  It’s going to be a gorgeous night and he has music ready and the apartment’s clean and tidy.  He’s even lit a few candles.  Flowers, he thinks.  I should have bought some flowers.  No, can’t worry about that now, she’ll be here in an hour and flowers might be trying too hard.  Relax, relax.  He decides to have a beer on the patio before he gets in the shower.

She’s probably getting ready right now.  What’s she thinking?  Is she nervous, excited, worried?  He’s surprised at how composed and confident she’s been since they’ve been dating, while he’s felt like an overgrown yellow Lab, all paws and eagerness and just plain goofy.  She really has changed and her quiet confidence has had an unsettling effect on him.  She makes him feel like he’s in junior high again, but tonight, it’s going to be different.  He’s on his own turf, preparing his best meal for his best girl.  Nothing can go wrong tonight.  It’ll be just like he’s imagined it a million times.

His hands are shaking when he shaves after his shower and he sets the razor down and braces himself on the counter.  Has a little talk with himself in the mirror. 

“For the love of God, Halpert, settle down.  You’ve done this before.  With great success, I might remind you.  And it’s Pam.  She’s crazy about you.  Yeah, but I don’t want to disappoint her.”

Don’t EVEN go there.  Don’t.  Shave, man.  Shave your face and get dressed.

And then she’s there and beautiful.  Her face is glowing and the air in the house just gets amped up to crackling hot.  She brings cheesecake for dessert and her hair is curled softly and she’s wearing a light cotton sundress, blue, and she’s just perfect. 

“Come and keep me company while I cook the steaks, okay?”

“Okay, you want some wine?”

“Sure.  Open the pinot noir.  The chianti is for dinner.”

“Wow, fancy, Halpert!  I didn’t know you were a wine expert.”

“I know a little.  Just enough to probably make an ass out of myself at a really good restaurant.”

After a glass and a half of wine, the night air, and Pam’s laughter, he settles into himself and silently scolds his inner 13-year old for being such a worrier.  This is us, he thinks.  It’s so good to be with her.  She’s topping off his glass when he lifts the lid on the grill and the aroma hits him full in the face.

“Eww.  That smells kind of…funky.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you don’t smell it?”

“Are they marinated?  Sometimes that can smell weird when it’s cooking.”

“No, no marinade.  Just salt and pepper.”

Pam leans over the grill and sniffs.

“Oh.  Maybe that’s not right.”

Jim grabs the steak off the grill and cuts a small piece off the end.

“Only one way to know for sure,” and he sticks the meat in his mouth.

Pam watches as his eyes go wide and he starts shaking his head.

“Uh uh.  Mm mm.  No.”

He walks quickly into the kitchen and opens the garbage can. 

“Oh, bad.  That’s very bad.  It’s spoiled!  Fuck!”

“Are you sure, Jim?”

“Oh, I’m definitely…oh.  You want to try a piece, Beesly?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Fuck.”

“Did it smell before?”

“No, it looked fine!  Dammit!”

“It’s okay!  Don’t worry about it.  We still have salad and wine and dessert.  That’s totally fine.”

“No, it’s not!  I’m so mad!”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it now, so just get the salad out and I’ll get some plates.”

“I’m going back to the butcher shop tomorrow.  With the steaks.”

“Maybe you can borrow a gun from Dwight!”

“Yeah!  And the throwing stars, too!”

She laughs and he laughs and she hugs him and says she had no idea he was so violent.  He’s still mad, but he’s going to salvage the night.  As long as she’s here and smiling and there’s wine and music and candles, it’s a good night.

It happens so quick, he can’t recover.  He’s lifting the salad bowl out of the refrigerator when the lip of the bowl catches on the shelf and as he tries to prevent it from falling, he actually tosses the bowl up, into his chest and watches the entire salad toss itself down the front of his sweater, his jeans, with a few croutons settling between his toes.

This can’t be happening.  He’s a good person.  Loves his mother.  Is kind to animals and old people.  Why? 

The bowl is still clattering on the floor and his arms are hanging limp and useless by his sides.  He looks over at her with a face of such exasperation that she bursts out laughing.  She’s doubled over, with her hand over her mouth and she’s laughing so hard, just a few squeaking noises are coming out of her.  He just stands there, feeling like the biggest ass in the world, and now she’s standing straight up, staring at him, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Pam knows he’s embarrassed, but she can’t help it.  He looks so broken!  Defeated by dinner!  When their eyes meet, he looks a little mad at her for laughing, so she tries to control herself as best she can, but that just makes it worse. 

Finally, he lifts a foot up, grabs a crouton, and pops it in his mouth and chews while looking at her, defiantly, which only sets her off even more.  He picks a romaine leaf from his sweater and eats it.

“What?  Isn’t this how you do it?  Pam, it’s kind of sexy, really.  You have no idea what I can do with pair of tongs.”

She has to sit down on the floor, she’s laughing so hard.  He still feels like a complete dork, but it’s done.  He can’t change it, so he sits down beside her with the salad bowl, still containing a few leaves of lettuce. 

“Even though you’re the meanest girl I know, I’m still going to feed you”, and he puts a piece of lettuce in her mouth but she’s laughing too hard to chew and holds her hands up to stop him.  When she can finally breathe, he tries to shame her by raising one eyebrow and giving her a look.

“I’m sorry!  Really, but that was just…perfect!”

“It wasn’t my idea of how perfect was going to go tonight, I can tell you that.”

“But it was perfect!  I can’t believe you ate that crouton off your foot!”

“It’s tradition in my family!”

“Stop!”

Still laughing, she grabs his face with both her hands and leans up on her knees and kisses him, pulling his face in close to hers, smashing their noses together, then running her hands in his hair, she can’t get close enough.

“I love you.  Don’t worry about anything, ever, okay?  I already love you.”

He’s stunned silent, still a little embarrassed, mad at himself for how this evening turned out.

“We still have more wine.  And cheesecake!  Why don’t you go take your clothes off and we can have dessert in the bedroom?”