Premise:- Conversations with my boyfriend on our date, sampled every hour in the form of journal entries.
Theme:- Normal text by me
Text in italics are inputs by Drake.
I began the date with a mail invitation. Drake RSVPed positively. Drake took an Uber cool way of reaching my place. I received a call around 1:30pm from him, stating he’s “lost”. Yeah right. He has a high end phone and speaks the local dialect. Not smart enough to misdirect me, but cute nevertheless. He thought he was not being obvious, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.
To boost his male ego, I took him to the nearest candy store and bought him a lot of candy. Most of them doubled as sexual innuendos. Like marshmallows… Dark chocolate… I also bought an extra Sour Punk which I just wanted for myself but handed over to the punk mistakenly and he is using it as a fishing bait for the next 100 years apparently. Wonder how many fishes he can catch.
Sounds too fishy. And the marshmallows are squishy.
We then waited for our first course at The Peppermill Bistro. We hoped to get more than just pepper on our plates. We ordered for Italian herbed fries, minestrone soup and margherita pizza. Drake made me feel bad about spending 10 bucks extra for Italian seasoning on normal fries. He didn’t realize that I was already over-spending on the fries. It’s all about the ambience in such fancy rooftop restaurants. Period.
Took an actual period from typing.
Drake was being Drake. I kept throwing compliments at him and he kept lapping them up and showing me attitude in return. I told him he was treating me like bro and to play a game of catch with my ball not cricket.
We talked about a lot of different topics. The pizza sparked a conversation on us planning to visit Tuscany, Italy (Drake) and Tuscano, an Italian restaurant in a mall nearby (me).
Speaking of Italy, Drake spoke of wanting to go to Israel to ask out military chicks. I know. There’s absolutely no correlation between these two topics. The algorithm generating random thoughts in his mind is unparalleled.
He then started staring at the owl pendant (I think), which was hovering over my chest. What? The owl has alluring eyes!
He fed me thin crust pizza with tomatoes to keep me healthy and I fed him fries to make him healthier. (He’s thin and I like to believe I’m fat, though he insists I’m not. Typical.)
He missed me in the morning so he made eggs for breakfast (l like all things sunny and siding up…. eggs and mornings make the perfect combination).
He said he ate a proper breakfast before coming for the date so that he could focus on me and not on his food. That was cute. He said he liked feeding me. I told him that I’m the only feed he would ever need to read. Smooth? I didn’t think so either.
He told me he wanted to cook me a nice breakfast some time. The last time he did, it backfired cause I was being moody and scolded him for putting to much salt in the eggs. He asked me to wear a mood band so he can be careful and that my mood could be color coded.
I asked him to come up, instead with a code on emotion recognition to classify my mood patterns.
He gave me theory on complimenting which I didn’t agree with. But politely nodded to anyway to assuage his male ego. According to him, if he compliments me too much, they won’t have as powerful an effect. I think that was just an excuse for him not being able to come up with good ones.
I told him, that with girls, the more you compliment them, the more they like it… just like the more you age your wine, the better it tastes… and both of these go very well with food (Thank you. Quotable quote for the day).
We went to a Mexican restaurant called The Heat, as things got more heated. Drake didn’t like that I forgot the one tiny compliment that he gave me. He said he wanted to jump off the balcony where we were seated (Yup, from one rooftop restaurant to another). I could never have taken that seriously because 1. Drake has a sociopathic sense of humor, which should never be taken seriously. 2. We are both scared of heights, so it won’t happen.
The menu arrived in some time, and Drake got calmer. Food resolves all conflict. Hear that Mr. PM ??
He commented on Horchata on the menu…that has appeared on a Buzzfeed video, cause he pays attention to my interests. Nice realization.
We ordered for a virgin margarita. He explained the difference between margherita and margarita. Italian and Spanish words…. except that he faltered with the etymology. Apparently both words are rooted at Margaret… or daisy.
As two decked up people (a couple) entered the restaurant, Drake commented on how fake they looked. In response, I said “Sorry, I didn’t look at her boobs”. Just cause I simply must say outrageous things.
According to Drake, we look like real people, while those people looked like fake plastic dolls. I said I didn’t know what that’s like because I never got fake plastic dolls as a child (running joke, I’m a tomboy because my parents never got me dolls to play with. Instead I had to play with my brother’s cars).
Speaking of boobs, Drake dreamt about fondling with my boobs and woke up to find there were no boobs. Because I have promised previously that I won’t make this a horror story, I’m going to move past the boob ghost. Or through it.
Drake then proceeded to ask me a serious question about how life would be after we got married. I told him that I like excitement in my life …. I am a curious soul. I love learning and experiencing new things.
He told me he’s trying to keep up with that… I asked him what he thought. He told me that he liked working seriously for 5 days of the week on his personal growth and job and 2 days to relax. Then he told me that he thinks the last few months at his first job killed his adventurous spirit and curiosity.
I told him how the many convoluted discussions that I’ve had with my dad as a kid, have shaped me to be an ever curious soul who is always looking out for challenges.
He told me how he doesn’t quite know how his childhood experiences have shaped him into who he is today. He should perhaps look into that.
He told me about him reading encyclopedias from Childcraft and racing in make believe cars with his younger brother… something he was taught by his favorite cousin.
As we finished our pan seared fish on cilantro rice (yum!) and street style churros, we asked for the bill. I asked Drake about the concept of tipping. He told me that in restaurants, it’s called gratuity. He also told me how tips are given in bars, because customers tip the extra money in empty glasses that the bartender collects.
Drake is a know-it-all. Drake is cute. Drake has the answer to all of my questions. Be like Drake.
We ended the date at The Heat soon and Drake told me that he doesn’t want to worry about anything for a few days. He wants to go go-karting.
We walked towards my lab. I asked him to come to my department terrace to find a fun way to end the day.
It had been ages since we have been together in a campus environment. He didn’t want to face unwanted people and luckily they weren’t there (read: people from my lab who had/have a thing for me).
We went to the terrace and wrote a small note. Rolled the paper and stuck it into a secret place. Something to visit when I miss him. Also something to water proof, next time I visit. Brought our date to an end with a sweet kiss.
I then dropped him to the main gate and made sure he got a cab back home. Was a beautiful day overall. Nice to observe my bunny smile and let loose. The purpose was to make him feel loved and his purpose was to pass on the bad cold and throat infection that he had acquired from going to a chilly place for a top secret mission.
Must say that both purposes were fulfilled.
*** end of chapter 1***