Alice laughed and shook her head. She certainly hadn’t heard that very much before but given that she’d been lecturing him on organic food she figured she had it coming. “Probably. But I farm. That’s my work out. Lifting bags of soil and fertalizer, digging, weeding, harvesting. It’s more work than you’d think. Not to mention the gardens are mostly roof-top which means a lot of stairs to get there, yeah?”
She shrugged, really not caring where they were. “Well since everything is on the table-” she said before taking a seat, figuring he could seat himself. “I really don’t have rules on food though, to be honest. Or much of anything. Pretty laid back around here.”
Okay. Generally laid back. Alice didn’t know if she should be blaming it on herself or Demeter- as she didn’t typically get angry- but she was really bristling. “Yes, it is sexist. First of all you didn’t say anything about interest- you said that it literally isn’t meant for women. Not to mention that just because I am not interested in it doesn’t mean that women aren’t. I am not interested in tennis or golf either, despite the fact that they are evidently more suitable for the fairer sex.” Her tone wasn’t even remotely kind and Alice felt a bit embarrassed. There wasn’t anything she disagreed with with what had come out of her mouth though...
----
He considered that before he nodded his head once. “Stairs? Excellent workouts. Especially on the thighs and stomach.” He patted his. Oh, he hated stairs. His coach would make them do those far more than he ever enjoyed. But, it was all part of the workout and they all did it, no matter which position you were on.
Steve was about to sit down himself and then she goes off on that rant and he paused and blinked at her and was all “Woah.” He said as he held his hands up, “Time out here.” He even made the T-sign with his hands as he shook his head. “How did I end up the bad guy here?” he blinked at her again. “I didn’t mean any of that. And I even said I know several women who are interested in it.”
He paused for a moment and tilted his head, “And I meant it’s not marketed toward women. And you know I’m right on that. The whole sport, including the commercials and the advertisements and everything is geared toward young men who want to watch each other bash their heads in. How did we go from that to me being a Chauvinistic pig?”
----
The T-sign was almost too much for her. She watched him, a brow raised, her expression fairly unwavering. She still felt as if the words were unfair but it was likely just as unfair to explode on him over it. Alice sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from,” she told him, though she had a fairly good idea.
“Yeah, it seems to be marketed toward men. It just didn’t sound like that was what you were saying,” she explained, her tone even as she could make it.
“Truce?” she asked with a small smirk. “Come on, the steak will get cold.”
--
“The womanizing slutty bartender saying something isn’t for women?” he asked with a faint smirk and a tilt of his head. “More than likely that.” He then shook his head a little bit as he pulled the chair out and settled down into it. “But a truce sounds good. Food smells too good to let it get cold.”
He took a sip of his drink. “I honestly didn’t mean it that way. Saying someone can’t or can do something just because they’re swinging instead of bouncing is something that belongs back in the stone age. I’ve had too many women school me on something that I long ago stopped thinking along those lines.” He gave her a wry grin. “Like I said, worked out with this chick recently, and she made me look old and fat. I’m sure she could kick my ass in football today too if we played.”