Chez Minu
FIRST DATE
First check: the bedroom; second: upstairs bathroom; then hall bathroom, followed by one in the dining room and a final stop adjacent to the front door. I would have repeated the entire process of vanity, from mirror one to five, if it hadn’t been for his car horn at 7 p.m.
I folded my jelly legs into his expensive car, which I would never find myself buying even if I had the means. He smelled of expensive cologne I couldn’t name. I took a deep breath – give him a chance, it’s the first date.
“So, where are we going for dinner?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise and I’m guessing that you’ll like it,” he said.
“Did you base it off my profile?” I asked.
“Do you mean the online dating site? I lied throughout that survey – didn’t you?” he said.
“Oh yes, completely!”
Great, I was on a date with a psycho-killer.
“What is it? You’re looking out the window as if…” he said.
“Nothing at all! I had a song in my head. Speaking of, what kind of music do you like?” I said.
“Depends on my mood, but I prefer old jazz,” he said.
Finally, a pleasant breakthrough. I smiled.
“So do I – throw in some swing and big band and I’m in heaven,” I said.
“And my heart beats so that I can hardly breeeeeathe….” It was off key, but I appreciated the effort. He smiled back – a wider smile -- as if there were words behind it.
We arrived at the restaurant. It was out of Casablanca; any minute now I expected Bogart to stride out of the double doors while sounds of a crooning Pops momentarily filled the night air. Instead, this bright neon red sign read, El Cantará.
His chivalry was awkward. He opened my car door, gave me a hand and guided me into the restaurant, keeping his hand on my back. I started sweating.
It was a Moroccan fused with Spanish restaurant. We walked into the former region, from the many fine Persian wool rugs and music to the arabesque cut out lamps of different geometric shapes and colors hanging from the ceiling. We sat on zabutons on low tables, increasing the intimacy and the nervous factor.
I was about to order wine but visions of my half naked body thrown over his shoulder, regurgitating first-date dinner and uttering secret confessions prompted me to vigorously shake my head.
It was time for 20 questions. By the time we finished, I discovered he was just as nervous as me. Twice, I caught his hands shaking; tiny beads of sweat formed a mustache above his upper lip.
Finally, our food arrived.
I had barely raised the fork to my mouth when I yelped at the sight of a chimpanzee hand-in-hand with a very tall woman, making their way to the table next to us.
The chimp, who donned a lime green bow-tie, sat across from his female companion wearing a similar colored dress. Their feet touching underneath the table. I looked wide-eyed at my date.
“Maybe it’s her only family.” He shrugged, laughing at my reaction -- mouth agape, eyes wide.
The chimp hardly spoke albeit used sign language. The very tall woman ordered food for both of them.
“Aren’t there rules against bringing animals into a restaurant?” I whispered, leaning across the table.
“I doubt it, but they could have refused service!" he said.
I suddenly realized neither one of us was shaking nor sweating. We were carrying on a real conversation.
It was bizarre enough seeing a chimp sitting next to us until their food arrived. The very tall woman and the chimp began to feed each other off their respective plates. I thought the feedings would only be for a couple bites -- oh no, it continued all throughout the time it took to finish our meal.
I was in awe and stared at them for a couple of minutes.
“I don’t know whether I’m disturbed, amused or something…” I said.
“I completely understand,” he said.
We laughed simultaneously, attracting the chimp’s attention. Suddenly, the primate started to jump up and down and act more like an animal than a gentleman. He threw his dinner napkin into the air and became increasingly animated. I leaped to the other side of the table to find security at my date’s side. The restaurant owner approached the very tall woman and kindly asked her and her chimp to leave.
After the boisterous ordeal, I was surprised to find my hand tightly clasped in his; our heads so close to each other, we could hear one another’s breathing and feel it touch our cheeks.
So much for first date jitters.
© No part of the material protected by this copyright may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, broadcasting or by any other information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author.
First check: the bedroom; second: upstairs bathroom; then hall bathroom, followed by one in the dining room and a final stop adjacent to the front door. I would have repeated the entire process of vanity, from mirror one to five, if it hadn’t been for his car horn at 7 p.m.
I folded my jelly legs into his expensive car, which I would never find myself buying even if I had the means. He smelled of expensive cologne I couldn’t name. I took a deep breath – give him a chance, it’s the first date.
“So, where are we going for dinner?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise and I’m guessing that you’ll like it,” he said.
“Did you base it off my profile?” I asked.
“Do you mean the online dating site? I lied throughout that survey – didn’t you?” he said.
“Oh yes, completely!”
Great, I was on a date with a psycho-killer.
“What is it? You’re looking out the window as if…” he said.
“Nothing at all! I had a song in my head. Speaking of, what kind of music do you like?” I said.
“Depends on my mood, but I prefer old jazz,” he said.
Finally, a pleasant breakthrough. I smiled.
“So do I – throw in some swing and big band and I’m in heaven,” I said.
“And my heart beats so that I can hardly breeeeeathe….” It was off key, but I appreciated the effort. He smiled back – a wider smile -- as if there were words behind it.
We arrived at the restaurant. It was out of Casablanca; any minute now I expected Bogart to stride out of the double doors while sounds of a crooning Pops momentarily filled the night air. Instead, this bright neon red sign read, El Cantará.
His chivalry was awkward. He opened my car door, gave me a hand and guided me into the restaurant, keeping his hand on my back. I started sweating.
It was a Moroccan fused with Spanish restaurant. We walked into the former region, from the many fine Persian wool rugs and music to the arabesque cut out lamps of different geometric shapes and colors hanging from the ceiling. We sat on zabutons on low tables, increasing the intimacy and the nervous factor.
I was about to order wine but visions of my half naked body thrown over his shoulder, regurgitating first-date dinner and uttering secret confessions prompted me to vigorously shake my head.
It was time for 20 questions. By the time we finished, I discovered he was just as nervous as me. Twice, I caught his hands shaking; tiny beads of sweat formed a mustache above his upper lip.
Finally, our food arrived.
I had barely raised the fork to my mouth when I yelped at the sight of a chimpanzee hand-in-hand with a very tall woman, making their way to the table next to us.
The chimp, who donned a lime green bow-tie, sat across from his female companion wearing a similar colored dress. Their feet touching underneath the table. I looked wide-eyed at my date.
“Maybe it’s her only family.” He shrugged, laughing at my reaction -- mouth agape, eyes wide.
The chimp hardly spoke albeit used sign language. The very tall woman ordered food for both of them.
“Aren’t there rules against bringing animals into a restaurant?” I whispered, leaning across the table.
“I doubt it, but they could have refused service!" he said.
I suddenly realized neither one of us was shaking nor sweating. We were carrying on a real conversation.
It was bizarre enough seeing a chimp sitting next to us until their food arrived. The very tall woman and the chimp began to feed each other off their respective plates. I thought the feedings would only be for a couple bites -- oh no, it continued all throughout the time it took to finish our meal.
I was in awe and stared at them for a couple of minutes.
“I don’t know whether I’m disturbed, amused or something…” I said.
“I completely understand,” he said.
We laughed simultaneously, attracting the chimp’s attention. Suddenly, the primate started to jump up and down and act more like an animal than a gentleman. He threw his dinner napkin into the air and became increasingly animated. I leaped to the other side of the table to find security at my date’s side. The restaurant owner approached the very tall woman and kindly asked her and her chimp to leave.
After the boisterous ordeal, I was surprised to find my hand tightly clasped in his; our heads so close to each other, we could hear one another’s breathing and feel it touch our cheeks.
So much for first date jitters.
© No part of the material protected by this copyright may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, broadcasting or by any other information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author.
