Mom and I return home, stuffed from a lack luster Mother's Day Brunch. Originally I wanted to take Mom to the Neptune Room. The ambiance was a little casual, but the food was delicious. However the portion sizes were H-U-G-E and Mom and I would not be able to finish one plate of breakfast, let alone two! But I chose classy La Grolla instead, which was exceptionally disappointing and nothing like the lovely Italian dinner Meera and I shared, where the water, wine and bread flowed freely. Today, I had to request the carbo basket (which was a part of our meal), twice. I cannot believe I had to even ask once. And you would think there was a drought. The waiter was stingy with the water. Hello, it’s free and we’re parched!!! So pour!
Even though it's the middle of the afternoon, Mom and I change into our jammies. We flop onto the couch and I channel surf. I have lived alone for so long, that I forget how nice company is. “Let’s watch a movie,” I suggest. “Sure, then I will do my puja,” Mom says and reclines onto the couch. Both of us are short so we can lie on the couch and have space left over.
At 5:55 pm my phone rings. I don’t even believe it when I reach over and see Dr. Froggy’s number. What the hell is wrong with this guy? Is English NOT his first language? I told him I’d call between 4 and 6 pm, can’t he wait two minutes for my movie to finish? Mom gets up to pray and I listen to the voicemail, “Hey Desi Girl, I'm going to a hockey game tonight at 7.” I decide to return the call, not really caring if he is driving, busy or getting ready.
“’Ello?” Dr. Froggy says. More mumbling? How can someone who spent the better part of ten years learning medicine be so inarticulate? “Hey, Dr. Froggy, I thought I’d catch you before you went to the game. Is this a good time?” I ask. “It’s a great time, I’m walking there now. I don’t want to take the Porsche downtown,” Dr. Froggy replies. Oh boy, is Dr. Froggy insecure? We're barely 12 seconds into our conversation and he is already making sure I know he can afford boy toys. And why would he lead with that piece of information? I live in Manhattan where New Yorkers regularly leave their Bentleys parked on the street. I would think men would be weary of desi gold diggers. I am not one. If I were, I would have glommed onto Town and Country like he was the last man on Earth.
“Are you going to the game alone?” I ask, changing the subject. “Nah with some buddies. Do you like hockey?” Dr. Froggy asks. “Yes, of course. I am from Minnesota the land of hockey, Vikings and Democrats. But I prefer college hockey to professional,” I reply. “Hhhmm, so you’re a Democrat? That is too bad, I love Reagan,” he asks. Well I love the Clintons, but decide not to share that and say, “I think Hindu Republicans are an oxymoron. You do know that the really conservative right wing of Republican Party thinks you are going to hell for being Hindu, right? Even though our founding fathers guaranteed us the right to believe or not believe." I don't care what he thinks about my politics, I am SO over trying to impress these guys. He laughs and says, “I like the way you think, but I’m a Republican because…” he begins. And I cut him off and say, “…because you make too much money and wish to avoid taxes. Heard it. Don’t buy it. There are plenty of rich Democrats who don’t want to pay taxes either. I'm not rich and I don’t like taxes either. What we need is a VAT tax based on consumption and not this stupid dysfunctional tax bracket system that doesn’t work."
"Damn! You’re tough, I like it,” Dr. Froggy says. He seems to appreciate my feisty style. Is it possible that he GETS me? Perhaps there is some hope for my phone stalker after all.