Her glances were subtle; she inched away everytime I looked up.
I broke the silence. “Interesting place, huh?”
She smiled mystically, and then suddenly burst out, “Wait, why?”
“Well, you know. This being a Mexican restaurant and all. You know.” I then pointed to the girl behind the counter. And her father. And her brothers. And her uncles, each taking care of their own part of the kitchen.
“Oh. You don’t like Mexican people?”
What the hell? Is she stupid? “No, I mean the fact that this is a Mexican restaurant that’s completely run by a Chinese family. Don’t you think it’s a bit out of the ordinary? I mean, just imagine: Some couple is vacationing from Mexico and they see this place and they’re like wow let’s get some homestyle food and so yah they come in here and boom! Chinese people servin’ them their f00d!~”
Alright, so the way I talk changes drastically when I get excited. Especially when it’s because of absolutely positively dumb things.
So, she then gives me this quizzical look and blurts, “You’re cute.”
I sighed and four minutes of silence ensued. After that, I threw away my trash and grabbed my coat. She did the same. I walked her home as the cold wind battled her scarf. Meanwhile, I kept her warm. She smiled, genuinely (and naively) when we arrived and gave me a sweet kiss before I left.
That night, I called this girl from high school, now all grown up and working for an investment bank in Seattle. I told her about girls in the twenty-first century and how it’s never as easy as it seems. “Where’s the intelligence? Where’s the personality? I don’t care about the eyes fluttering. I can’t love a doll. A doll runs on batteries, and that’s only if it talks. I need warmth.”
Her voice was soft. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I know what you mean.”
I crumbled. “Then why are you so far away?”