Tag Archives: nift

My first official date and how I effed it up

A fine Saturday Summer morning and all I wanted was some food and cold beer, but the almighty Cupid was planning something more for me. This is what I did and what millions of other people do all across the globe every day when they wake up, I woke up, I felt sad for waking up, I unlocked my phone and checked my messages and that’s when the fine Saturday morning took a dramatic turn. I saw her messages ‘Hey there, u free today?’…and those who can read between the lines will understand that this can mean anything, from come to my place and let’s make out to go to China and bring me some Hakka Noodles. Unaware of the threat, I replied ‘Yes I am.’ with optimism and one smiley.
‘We have been texting for very long, I want to see you’ she said.
And my nervous system freaked out and started to bombard my brain with multiple questions, genuine questions regarding her message like “Is this a date, is this a joke, is this a prank or is she trying to kidnap me?”
A gorgeous fresh designer graduate ….asking me out for a date in a country with the sex ratio of 944 girls per 1000 boys is an achievement in itself.
So as I mentioned, it was summer, she decided the best time to meet would be 3 pm so that we could go out and come back with third-degree burns.
Punctuality is a concept we Indians can never understand, we fix a time so that both the parties could come sufficiently late with stupid excuses like my dog peed on my shoes or Russian Mafia kidnapped me. Seriously why are we always late? Except for the only event where timing matters, we Indian men come early (pun intended).
Anyway, I knew she will not come on time, so I’d brought everything to entertain myself with in the meanwhile. I rotated my fidget spinner, updated status on Facebook, clicked dozens of selfies, went on a word tour, killed Kim Jong-un and came back and then she called me.
“I’m so sorry, I’ll be a little late”
WTF woman!! What is taking you so long? I told you to take the metro, not a bullock cart.
Finally, she arrived after 45 minutes, exactly 10 minutes after I was done with all the crucial work that was keeping me engaged, like updating all the apps from Google play store, counting the stairs and watching strangers watch me watching them coming inside and outside of the metro station.
We took an auto for our evening Delhi tour. I skipped elaborating the part of our awkward meeting when I extended my sweaty hands with a creepy smile and she just looked at me with a scandalized expression.
We exchanged hellos and the usual conversation started and I asked her how is work going?
Till then I didn’t know that you can answer this simple question with a nine page long essay, she told me everything, everything from how her college was, how her internship went, how her new job is going, how she is planning to open an NGO, how skinny pants are different from tapered trousers…fucking EVERYTHING. For the last twenty years, till then, my knowledge about the designing field was confined to what Bollywood has shown us, that the designing industry is full of drug addicts and horny gay people trying to fuck each other, but in that twenty minutes I realized that designing industry is much more than that, it also includes crazy designers with OCDs who cannot stop talking.
Somehow we reached the Ugrasen ki Baoli where I took her down to the well and showed her hundreds of bats hanging from the ceiling and she screamed and I thought something would happen like it happens in Bollywood movies, girl falls, the guy catches her in his arms, violins start playing in the background but Alas! Nothing happened.
Then we went to the Red Fort, the ugly red building where Mughals used to play snooker.

47q3w

I showed her the big open fields where Akbar used to take Jodha Begum on a horse ride and they used to have their little tickle time behind the trees. I thought this might trigger some love hormones inside her, but nothing happened. And deep inside I was hoping that in the end, she doesn’t reveal that she likes women because then my inner self will be like “I told you so”. All these efforts of making a girl fall in love with me were tiresome and I was hungry, and my ears were bleeding after listening to the stories from her Kerala Trip fifth time since we met. So we went to the only cafe in the Red Fort campus, where everything is overpriced and tastes like shit and I ordered a couple of Burgers stuffed with some fried yellow shit and some red and green shit on the top with coke. Wandering was done, eating was done, the only thing that was left undone was my charm to work on her. She still showed no sign of interest in me. We sat down on the freshly cut grass and started talking about Random things, from our school life to movies to her life, her future plans and her list of favorite places. We were having a serious discussion over movies when she said something, something so irrational and fallacious that it still leaves me offended when I try to recall that horrific moment. My hands are shaking, my heart is thumping hard and I’m covered in my own puke while I’m writing this unbelievably ridiculous comment of hers. She actually said that the Harry Potter movies are better than the books. This is the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard. “Go back to the cave where you’ve come from you brainless duck-face” I wanted to say this but I remained silent and waited for the evening to end. She kept on saying some other stupid things but I remained silent. She looked uncomfortable because of my sudden silence, but I remained silent. Nobody talks shit about Harry Potter and then expects me to talk back. Before that, I was thinking of booking an Uber and dropping her but hell no, I changed my mind, I will take an auto and you go hop on the bullock cart you’d arrived by.
I went back home and decided to never go on a date again on Saturday. But the next morning I was feeling bad about it. I want to go on another date because now my right-hand hurts,
.

.

.

 

by constantly swiping right on Tinder.