72. DESIS IN FORT TRYON PARK

For my Reindeer in the Park date I try on seven outfits before finally pairing a white tunic with black capri pants. (Men, if you think women just pull two things out of the closet and call it an outfit, you are sadly naïve). My phone rings and I answer. “Hello?” “Hi, sweeeetie! Are you nervous for your date?” Jane squeals. “Ah, no, why?” I reply. “A man is about to see your house,” she states. I am tidy enough to put Mr. Clean out of business. So a man in my small apartment is the least of my fears. Delayed subways or an army of roaches is another story. Thank goodness for taxis and Raid!

As Jane and I chat the mobile phone rings. Reindeer. I ask Jane to hold. “Hello?” I ask. I must look something close to ridiculous with two phones, one accessorizing either side of my head. “How are you?” he asks. “Good,” I reply. For a moment I panic, thinking a hotter, thinner desi woman has enchanted him and he is no longer interested in me. “How do I get to your place?” he asks. Hhmmm. This is a great question. Unfortunately, I am Carless in the City and have no idea. Luckily Jane is on the other phone and I ask her for directions.

Two hours later a lost Reindeer calls. I ask where he is and venture out to retrieve him. How he got lost in a numbered grid street system is beyond me. I find him pacing in a very typical desi fashion, with his arms behind his back, crossed at the wrists, his hands resting on against his bum. As usual Reindeer is dressed nicely --- white linen pants, checked linen button-down and black slides. When he sees me, he perps like a Bollywood star, leaning against his very shiny black Mercedes. I must admit the combination of a well dressed man and a German import is oh-so-very-sexy!

I give him the tour of my 540 square foot apartment, gather the picnic items and take him to the bakery where we order chicken tortas. I ask for all the toppings --- cheese, guacamole, lettuce, tomato, beans, jalapenos, except onions. Who wants bad breath on a date? Evidently Reindeer who partakes in the onions, leaving me wondering if we will ever kiss?

To be cont.