Is my love of good food so intense it could sabotage a potential relationship? Sure it sounds ridiculous, but a recent dating experience led me to examine the connection between man, woman and food.
I met M___, a single lawyer in his early 40s at a friend’s party. At over 6 feet tall with long graying dreads pulled back neatly, M____ was soft spoken and polite. While geographically undesirable (living in Long Island and working in the Bronx) I was willing to overlook it given he was the right age, cute, employed and above all, interested.
About a week after meeting, M___ called to suggest an after work drink. We met at the bar of a swank restaurant near my work. It was around 7pm and I was peckish. As we chatted I proceeded to devour – albeit as daintily as possible – the doll portion bar snacks before us and ask for more.
Two drinks later I was officially famished and casually inquired if M___ would be interested in ordering some food. He wasn’t hungry. Not wanting to make him feel like he had to buy me dinner, I didn’t press. We had another round of drinks and as he walked me home we made plans for dinner Sunday.
Back at the apartment, dinner that night was a cold slice of leftover truffle mushroom pizza and a mini Kit Kat bar that had fallen into the (empty) vegetable crisper. While not the most satisfying meal, I was consoled by the promise of a dinner date in my near future.
Sunday came and M____ was running late. Though we’d planned on going out to eat, he suggested I grab a bite without him since he’d be a while. My blood sugar was at an all time low having saved up all day for dinner. In an overly cheerful tone (my attempt at masking my hunger-driven irritation) I proposed we reschedule for another night. M___ insisted, saying he’d come over as soon as possible if even for a glass of wine and conversation at my place.
Eating a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats with almond milk I held out hope we’d still make it out for a real meal. He arrived at 9pm and by 9:05pm asked for a local Chinese menu, “since you’ve already eaten I’ll just have something delivered.” I’d left the empty bowl and cereal box out on the counter top in clear view. Drats.
When the delivery guy arrived M__ sent him back when failed to arrive with the brown rice he’d ordered. A bold move I thought, considering we’d just met. But perhaps it was a good sign? A guy who knew what he wanted. Especially when it came to food.
M____ is allergic to cats and after two hours he started sneezing and said he should go. The timing was perfect I was having visions of leftover broccoli in garlic sauce.
Approaching the door he turned on his heels, back tracked to the kitchen, and deftly plucked the Chinese boxes from the countertop, dropped them into a grocery bag and with a kiss, walked out the door into the night.
We eventually made it out to dinner about a week later, stay tuned to hear how that turned out. Dare to venture a guess?
Find out what happened at dinner here.