Settling into the dating rhythm with Tapan over a course of two months, Naina was off in wonderland musing on the dates that had endured her till here – the funny ones, the weird ones and some which started sweet but ended badly…..
If she was honest with herself, some had been the result of her over ambitiousness while others just a desperate bid to go on a date despite it not seeming right to her. God she had a whole series of anecdotes right there, if she was ever tempted to send them to Reader’s digest.
Mr. Fidgety fidget: Like that seemingly sweet, complacent and uber good looking dude who accompanied her to the film screening and art exhibition on Frida Kahlo at the British Council, just to spend the entire time fidgeting in his seat, playing with his phone and walking in and out of the Audi to take calls/go to the loo – much to her horror and the irritation of her fellow audience. It was just her persistence to date him that she had initiated that date, though he hadn’t seemed the arty kinds at all. But man he was droolicious….
Mr. Dullsville: The clean cut, sharp features with a dimpled smile banker who was boring as hell when it came to books, movies, travel, food, music – in fact he had no hobbies at all– but was a sharp dresser and dreamboat to look at. Plus he had really looked good on her arm at the preview of the India Art Fair.
Mr. Cook: The cute chef that she had met during a food awards night who had paid her obscene compliments the entire night in a slightly abbreviated state. Sobered up the next day, he had asked her out on a date which had consisted of him meeting her at a wine shop to pick a beer, take her for a drive and then park under a tree on the main road where the cops showed up and extorted him of 2000/-, then his car battery dying out, calling a mechanic and loaning him 1000/- which she never saw again. He did call but she had enough.
Mr. Foodie: The gym enthusiast who seemed to be bursting in his t-shirt and was an avid health freak to say the least, introduced to her by one of her art agents and who seemed extremely taken by her. When she had agreed on a dinner date with him, she wasn’t expecting him to take on the role of food mossad and negate all her choices while ordering food. Thoroughly piqued, she had ordered a pizza with extra cheese just to torture him. He had shuddered with horror when she had ordered desert for herself too.
Mr. OCD: The boy–next-door life coach who was a brilliant conversationalist; soft spoken and repartee intelligently with her on books, spirituality and the Dalai Lama and had all the time in the world to meet her. But his OCD was on an insane level; not only did he re-arrange the table ware in the café but when the server came to clear away their cups, he re-aligned them in the clearing away tray also. Sigh! What a waste of intelligence.
Posting my day 29 post for #Dailychatter Here as I take my blog to the next level with #Blogchatter and #UBC – the ultimate blog challenge in October 2016 through fictional series which will become a regular feature on my blog under #FridayFiction