I cringed, feeling personally attacked. “Dare me to do what?”
“Put action behind your words.” He motioned to me with his fork. “Spend twenty-four hours without using any products made with oil.”
“Then what?” I asked flatly. I didn’t see where he was going with this stupid dare that was so easy a fly could do it.
“I don’t know. How ‘bout bragging rights. If you can do it, I’ll toss another ten grand into your contract.”
My jaw dropped so low it must have looked broken. I had no clue why this was so important to him. I also didn’t understand why he was trying so hard to convince me. “Ah, for real?”
“For real.” He wagged his index finger in the air in a way that was so annoying, it made me want to bite it. “Just try. You can test your hypothesis to see if you can do it, or not.”
I narrowed my eyes, letting my tongue swipe the front of my teeth as if it alone was responsible for mustering up my courage. I jutted my jaw and bravely asked, “When do I start?”
“I reckon since you are sittin’ on logs cut with gas-powered chain saws, and you’re in an air-conditioned building fueled by natural gas, unless you wanna to give up now, I’d wait until after dinner. Maybe just so you can finish the day in the comfort of your air conditioning. You know, I wouldn't want to shock you by makin’ you too uncomfortable.”
I didn’t flinch this time. “Deal.”
“Just like that?” His gaze was skeptical when he added, “Don’t you wanna to ask any questions, or plan this out a little better?”
“Nope.” I offered him my I-couldn’t-care-less-about-this shrug. “How hard can it be?”
“For starters, how do you plan on gettin’ home?” He tilted his head, looking at me a little sideways. It was a cocky expression I hadn’t seen before, and I hated it.
“Ah, I have an electric car,” I spit back like I had the ace card.
“Right. And you do know charging stations get power from the grid.” When I didn’t reply, he added, “So the grid is fueled by coal, natural gas and all the dirty stuff you hate.”
I fought the urge to put my hand on my hip. “I charged it at home.”
“And your home is hooked up to the grid which means—not green.”
I flicked my bottom lip against my top teeth to enunciate, “Fine.” After I glared at him for an appropriate amount of time, I tacked on, “I’ll walk.”
“You can walk home but can’t use any power or lights when you get there.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, and slumped way down in my chair. I knew what he was doing. Did he think I wasn’t aware of all the ungreen products in our daily lives?I was the Queen of Green!“I’ll go camping.”
“Well, forget about bringin’ a cooler, or a tent, because those are most likely made from oil products.”
“I have an organic cotton pillow and comforter. That’s all I need.” My words were measured and harsh. I was ending this conversation now.
“No shampoo bottles, or plastics, anything charged on the grid, no—”
“I get it!” I cut him off, straightening my spine. I was so wholly agitated I couldn’t contain my composure any longer. “Stop trying to be a know-it-all rig pig because I know what you are trying to do. You’re trying to teach me a lesson, but you’ll be surprised because I’ll be able to do this. I’ll walk home, and just so I don’t accidentally flip a light switch or unintentionally step into air conditioning, I’ll grab my stuff and go to the park to camp. It’s only one night. I’ll be fine. Actually, I’ll be better than fine. It’ll be so refreshing, I’ll add years to my life!”
His eyes traced my face, but his lips never cracked a smile as they maintained a serious expression. “Me, a know-it-all-rig pig?” A snort leaked before he went off, “You’re a know-it-all-hippie with an ugly nose antenna! I bet you can’t tell me why this is so important to you.”
Nose antenna! It’s called self-expression!Now I was so white hot mad at him I didn’t think he even deserved a chance for me to explain this to him. “Because—” I started but then stopped so I could swallow and wash some of my anger down. I tried again, my words laced with spit, “It’s important we start cleaning up our environment, and every little bit matters. I’ll show you it’s easier than you think.” I pushed my salad forward as I was done talking. I was so completely aggravated now, that I shot to my feet and declared, “I’m ready to go.”
“See, I knew you didn’t like the food—” He stood, pulled out his wallet, and dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “Looks like someone is already being a sore loser.” His voice was taunting, but he didn’t fall behind as I strode toward the door.
Gritting my teeth, I bit out, “I never lose.”
He elbowed me with a nudge that failed to be friendly. “First time for everything, Cloverbud.”
I inclined my chin in the air, proclaiming my plans, “Just so you know I won’t be cheating, I’ll be camping at Central Meadows Park. You’re welcome to come spy on me to ensure I’m not accidentally siphoning off someone’s grid.”
He chuckled in an octave so low and dark it made Ebenezer Scrooge sound like Tinkerbell. We passed through the restaurant doors, stepping onto the sidewalk and right into the wind. A smile crossed his lips. “You have fun because it’s supposed to storm tonight.”
