‘PORK RINDS!’ I almost yell, which again makes Cameron laugh out loud. Again, like my kryptonite.
I don’t think the waitress writes any of it down, but I’ll hope and pray something comes to our table.
‘So, tell me about your family? I expect they’re normal then?’ Cameron says.
I pause for a moment. ‘Define normal.’
‘Like not uptight and conservative.’
I chuckle under my breath as I can’t think of two words that describe my parents less. ‘They’re pretty liberal… and fun… I think the word is fun. Their mission at anyone’s sixtieth birthday party would be flaming shots, half-naked carnage and dance-offs. It’s like on the other end of the spectrum of your parents.’
‘They sound brilliant,’ Cameron comments.
‘They are.’ Tell him they used to be in porn. Tell him now.
‘I would kill for that kind of normal. Just a nice family who don’t have any secrets or issues.’ Or maybe not. ‘I bet you can talk to them about anything? Politics, race, sex?’
I blush because he’s said the word sex in front of me. I say that word at least two hundred times a day at work, but because it’s come out of his mouth, it’s turning my cheeks ablaze.
‘Two Sols,’ the waitress says, dropping the bottles at the table before heading off.
I grab at a bottle and down at least a quarter, hoping it may cool me down.
‘Or not?’ Cameron says, amused by my reaction.
‘Oh no, we’re talking lefter than liberal with them. It was a nice way to grow up.’
And despite the lie I’m hiding behind, that is the truth. I love them dearly for how openly they raised me. Yes, they do walk around naked a little too often because they are super comfortable with nudity and their own bodies, but in terms of what they taught me about life, hard work and family goals, then I can’t say anything bad about them at all.
‘And siblings?’
‘One brother. He’s younger, a bit all over the place, but he’s a good egg.’ He’s in a soap, he also does those annoying second-hand car commercials. Tell him.
‘Free guac.’ Let’s blame the waitress. It’s her who doesn’t want me to tell him.
She plonks what I can only describe as a vat of guacamole on the table. How is this free? Avocados are expensive? This must crush their profit margins.
I can’t drink any more beer without ordering proper food, so I get my phone out to download whatever food app this place is using.
‘Is that your mum?’ Cameron asks, glancing at my phone.
My screensaver is a selfie of the two of us. I remember that day well. We went down to Brighton, to sit by the sea, shop and eat fish and chips. Mum even dragged me on the bumper cars at the pier and this is where this picture was taken. It’s not hugely flattering as my mouth is open so widely and with such happiness that you can see I’ve had my wisdom teeth removed.
‘Yeah, that’s her. She loves a bumper car.’
‘She looks familiar to me.’
Oh, shit.
‘Was she ever a teacher?’
‘No.’ Maybe in a bad film she was once in.
‘She looks like my old history teacher.’
Thank god.
‘She looks fun.’
