Talking About Soft Stuff

Hello, April. Surprise me, sure, but please don't fool me.

Mac's been at the ocean, I'd been at the river and we agreed that we were overdue to convene and debrief. It was as easy as me suggesting a gangster movie and her having the bright idea to begin with Giustino's pizza and our date was planned.

When I went to pick her up, it was obvious we were on the same hopeful weather page, since we both showed up in open shoes and jean jackets as if it were 70 degrees rather than 55. I blame it on water-focused weekends and our eternal optimism.

At Galley Market, we joined a much older couple eating dinner at the counter, or rather, him patiently waiting while she, hunched over her plate as if it could be taken away from her at any moment, slowly and methodically chewed each bite while staring at the counter.

I came this close to finally breaking bad and ordering something other than the Bianca pizza I've had every other time, really, I did, especially after spotting a Popeye pizza special (sauteed mushrooms and spinach), but I was saved from leaving my comfort zone when Mac ordered it first, effectively guaranteeing me a Popeye sample.

What are girlfriends for, after all?

I'll tell you what, they're for justifying a dessert both of us were too full to eat but nonetheless managed to devour. Walking toward the Byrd, Mac wanted to duck into Sugar & Twine to get a muffin for breakfast, which is where we spotted a housemade "Little Debbie" and next thing you know, we're looking at walls covered in American scene painter J. Bohannon's canvases and digging into our tower of chocolate and whipped cream.

The only downside? No room for popcorn once we made it to the Byrd. Instead, Mac showed me some of the men currently trying to win her favor online and we marveled at how some men have no clue which photos they shouldn't post if they're hoping for a favorable response.

A surprising number of people showed up for a Monday night gangster film. For a change, there was no introduction, no mention at all of today being the first day of Gangster Month at the Byrd or any fun facts about Edward G. Robinson's starmaker turn in 1931's "Little Caesar." We were on our own with a movie designated one of those that must be seen before we die.

Let's see, '30s cliches abounded: every man wore a hat, most used cigarette cases, wore spats, cops were all Irishmen and the death penalty was carried out with a hangman's noose. Absolutely no background music. And love? "Nothing! Less than nothing! Soft stuff." Tough guy jargon.

When the film ended in a brief 79 minutes, we both marveled at how almost cartoon-like it had been. Or, more accurately, how practically every crime movie for the past 87 years owes something (and in many cases, almost everything) to "Little Caesar." From drive-by shootings to personifying firearms, this is the movie that set the template that shaped our notion of gangster films.

"You want me? You're going to have to come get me!"

I wanted Mac and all the shared updates possible. You better believe I'll come get her if it means a night full of girltalk, gangsters and the best crust in town.

Best ever. No fooling.