First, yes, Swimming Pool is available from both Netflix and Blockbuster. In fact, Blockbuster even has the used DVD for sale for just $7.99 for standard riff-raff and $7.19 if you're a vaunted "subscriber". But, just between us, I can point you to a website where we can do a lot better for that kind of money, if you know what I mean. This is really a rental-quality film.
Second, the conversation between Dad and Mom at PF Chang's was purely fictional. I know you people like to think I spend a lot of time transcribing my real life into the blog, but not all my material is autobiographical. Here are some clues that this was a dramatization:
- The characters were named "Dad" and "Mom." If it were a factual event from my life, they would have been named, "Me, CherkyB" and "The Mrs.," respectively.
- The "Mom" character used the phrase "lunch date". The Mrs. would never use the word "date" for fear that I would, shall we say, expect something.
- The "Mom" suggests PF Chang's as someplace nice. The Mrs. would suggest Outback, then after being reminded for the 34 bazillionth time that Outback is not open for lunch, she would suggest Red Robin.
- The "Dad" is surprised that the kids are along on the date. The Mrs. has not been separated from The Childrens for a meal with Me, CherkyB since poor DaveyB and MaryB offered to babysit once as a dry run for their own family-building. That was a little over 2 years ago.
- The "Dad" remarks about the baggy, olive drab sweatshirt and locker-room gray pants. While this is without question The Mrs.'s favorite wardrobe selection, I've long ago learned not to mention it for fear of triggering a tirade much like that in the story.
- During her tirade, the "Mom" notes that "[her] mother was right." In real life, The Mrs.'s mother is quite happy with the selection of Me, CherkyB as a husband for her daughter. And this is not just in comparison to the, uh, questionable choices she has made in husbands for herself, but because I am truly an exceptionally wonderful man.
- The rant included the phrases, "f'k you", "you bastard", and "asshole". The Mrs. actually greatly prefers the term "cocksucker" when she's berating me.