My first bad desi date in NYC is with Shiva. I cannot EVEN imagine what his parents were thinking when they named him. It is almost evil to name a child Shiva, he is one-third of the tri-murthy, and one of the most powerful gods known as the destroyer and the pure one. Try living up to that name!
I contacted Shiva while I was in Minnesota, knowing I was coming (for good) to Manhattan, because I really liked his profile in which he oozed with wit stating he was back from a secret cover opp, an Indian James Bond. The photo he provided featured him reclining at his desk, giving him a relaxed look. And I simply found his profile unique and clever after wading through an ocean of desi men looking for a slim, fair, tall, mix of East-West, well-educated, six-figure salary woman from a good family who could make millions of dollars by day, and clean, cook, raise kids and sex her man by night. So basically, they were looking for the Indian Wonder Woman, who like the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus, does not exist.
I meet Shiva at Republic in Union Square but we ended up walking to Dos Caminos on Park Avenue. We order sangria and some appetizers. I chat about life in Minnesota and tell him I am moving to New York with the intent to work in real estate development. I leave out the part of the rusted ovaries. No need to scare him off before the tableside guacamole arrives.
He tells me he is an introvert from the West Coast, where his family still lives. To gauge him and his sense of humor, I retell my amusing story about riding the 1 instead of the A train and laugh at myself. He is not at all amused and doesn’t say too much more. Uh-oh not a good sign. He does have the decency to pay for date, but when I ask him how to get back to Union Square because I have no sense of direction yet, he points downtown and says he is going west.
I am so surprised by this. I understand that he was not interested, I wasn’t either. He had the personality of a snail. But that wasn’t the real crime. What I found unsettling about him was this ... if I met someone new to town and they had just finished telling me about taking the wrong train, ending up on a shady side of an off-color neighborhood, even if I wasn’t interested in a second date, I would have exhibited humanity and walked them back so as not to read about a ripped from the headlines Law and Order episode: DESI GIRL FROM MINNESOTA FOUND DEAD IN DUMPSTER. Bad Shiva.
Please God, tell me he is the not typical desi man in Manhattan!