You-May-Have-Contacted-Me and I finish our date. We step onto the sidewalk and slowly walk to the subway station. “Thanks for meeting me,” he says. “Thanks for dinner that was very kind of you. Again, so sorry I was late – normally I am punctual,” I share. “Nah, it's fine, I understand,” he says.
We take a few more steps and then he says, “So I really want to hit the outlets this weekend. I am dying for some True Religion jeans; let me know if you have any interest in joining.” Sigh. I like to shop, a lot, but for me it is a solitary activity. Or one that involves a girlfriend. Plus, I have bad financial habits, scant savings, so it would serve me better to save my money. I mean how many pairs of jeans do I need? I only have one ass. Funny, this philosophy does not apply to shoes. I must have a little bit of Imelda in me! More shoes please!
I get on the subway, and the ride home is short and sweet, the way the MTA intended it to be. I get home, put on my jammies and flop onto the couch. I barely turn on the television and my phone rings. I let it go to voicemail. There is a little part of me that worries that maybe it is Mom calling so I get up and look at the phone number. Hhmmm. 718 area code.
I decide to listen to the message. “Hey Desi Girl, it is Tao, remember me? We met for dinner, at the restaurant TAO New York – with the giant Buddha. Well I wanted to let you know that I went on some dates, with some other girls. And I still like you –can we meet up again?”
Oh boy. I set the phone aside. Before I have the time to think about I might say to Tao, my phone buzzes again. This time a text message. I reach over and groan.
Town and Country texts: How are you?
Does he have some Desi Girl Radar? His timing is amazing. It is like Town and Country KNOWS that I have almost fully restructured my life, and almost completely purged him from my life, that I have almost moved on – because this is when he returns.