Edited: A Man’s Role

What’s a Cherry on Top of Nothing?
There were a few cars at Einstein Brothers Bagel’s parking lot. I drove in around one in the afternoon. It was Sunday and Houston had better options than a bagel shop for brunch.  Earlier I suggested AKA sushi, as I craved a little sushi. I figured I could order a mango mojito to guide me through this not-so-desirable meeting.
I sat in my car. It was better than sitting in an empty diner waiting for him.  I love my car, but I no longer spend as much time in it since I lost my job. So here I was, in my Mars red GLK with the air-conditioner on maximum to stave off the heat. Houston was as hot as freshly-served coffee. I listened to random popular music on radio, as I checked my Facebook and Twitter updates.
He pulled into the lot several minutes later and parked his white BMW beside me. Years ago when I knew him, he drove a white, old, yet shiny Nissan Maxima.  I suppose a BMW is a natural upgrade for a Maxima, just like a Lexus for a Toyota and an Acura for a Honda.  Back then I drove an old Honda CRV, which I turned in for a new CRV before the Mercedes.  There was no Acura in between. So maybe there is no natural order to these upgrades.  
Did he drive his BMW carefully now?  I remember he rode his Maxima like a horse.  He’d speed up, drive really close to a car in front of him, and then narrowly miss it as he changed lanes.   I suspect he did it to impress me.  I can’t believe I thought it was hot.  Darn 20s.

As he stepped out of his car, I couldn’t believe I had found his almost albino skin attractive. I must have or we wouldn’t be meeting up now almost 8 years later.  Some female got out of the passenger side.  Who brings a girlfriend to these types of meetings?  The things that women have to put up with in today’s dating scene.  I had once told myself I could never accompany a man like she did, but I remembered Carl and his kids’ baseball games.  I quickly convinced myself my case was different.  He never had to interact with the ex and I was by his side all the time.  Surely this female will not be sitting in on our discussion.  I would not stand for it.  

I got out of my car slowly and made my way inside the shop.  Thank God I didn’t wear high heels that much anymore. I’d have hated tramping in heels after these two.  Anyway, I didn’t really care what the server behind the counter and the sole diner thought of my outfit.  I felt comfortable in my flats and my relaxed short black dress with long transparent sleeves. 
I met them at the counter. 
“Do you want anything?” he asked her.
“Just get you,” she responded, before walking off to inspect the offerings at the other end of the counter. 
“What do you want?” he asked, this time turning to me. 
“Nothing,” I responded.
He paid for his bagel and orange juice on a separate check, leaving her to pay for her own food. I bought my own orange juice, once I figured talking to him without something to hold was probably a bad idea.  She settled her check with a credit card from her no-name purse.
I would love to give you every juicy detail of this meeting, including the part where the server brought her meal to our table, how she awkwardly walked down to where we were to retrieve the sandwich and drink. But this is a blog post not a short story.
As we left the bagel shop, this guy who let his girlfriend pay for a lousy bagel that she ate alone while he talked to me for over an hour, made a show of holding car door open as she climbed in.  A few months ago, I met up with him in a much nicer restaurant where he bought me a fine lunch and held the restaurant door open for me.  Today, however, I drove my own car. I’d rather my man pay for my meal than hold the door open for me.  Was she one of those girls that liked to go Dutch? 
Do girls really like to pay their own way when out with a guy?  I posed this question to my Facebook friends and 17 out of 25 women would rather have a man pay for the meal when on a date than open the door.  Most women consider a guy paying for their meal, basic, and the latter a little extra or “cherry on the pie.” 
So the question is: what is a cherry on top of nothing?

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