February - Anjali

I couldn’t stop from swinging my foot waiting for my meeting with Raj.  For some reason I was really nervous.

After going through dozens of bio-data’s I picked about a dozen that I liked.  Raj was going to be number eleven.  The first ten meetings had been horrible.  How can someone sound so good on paper and then be so horrible in person.  There was only one more man to meet after Raj and if none of them worked out then it was back to the drawing board. 

I thought that arranged meetings would have been a reprieve from the horrors of dating, but it was equally as hard.  After the horribly long and boring dinners, I’d finally gotten smart and scheduled this meeting at a coffee shop.  This way if he was a dud at least I only wasted an hour and not a whole evening.

The last date had been excruciating with Arvind constantly asking me what my scores had been through my entire school life.  He couldn’t believe that I could forget my grades, my SAT scores and what not.  He remembered the very first perfect score he had from grade school.  Everything in his life was a stat to be measured, compared and of course remembered.  We went from discussing his perfect scores to the cost of all sorts of groceries. 

I’d arrived early and sat swirling my latte as I waited impatiently.  I had brought a paperback, The Runaway Jury, by John Grisham.  I chose this book since it was a page turner and it kept my mind from wondering about candidate #11.

I heard the coffee shop door open and I looked up to see a tall handsome Indian man walk in.  I strained my eyes to see if this was the man I was waiting for.  He was close to six feet tall but the bio-data had said 5’10”.  If anything I was expecting for him to be shorter since Candidate #3, 7, and 8 had all been a good two inches shorter.  Candidate #7 was even shorter than 5’8 because I looked down at him with flats! I’d come to expect exaggeration on height but certainly had not expected for the error to go the other way.

Maybe it wasn’t Raj. 

Actually, it couldn’t be the Raj I was expecting because this man was gorgeous and the picture that had been included was of an average looking guy.  This guy could be walking off a GQ magazine ad with his perfect dark black suit shaped to fit his athletic shape.  The tie had been shed and the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt had been opened in an inviting V making me wonder what I would see if a few more buttons were undone.

God, it had been too long since I last had sex.  I must be desperate to be thinking these things about a guy whose name I didn’t even know.

I looked back down at my book since this wasn’t the desi boy I was waiting for. 

Tapping my foot even more now, probably because of the evening caffeine I’d just injected into my body I impatiently looked at my watch.  Okay it was only five minutes after six pm.  Our date was for six pm.  But I had been here since 5:40pm and the wait was grating on my nerves.


I jerked my head up upon hearing my name.  And I was looking into the dark brown desi GQ man’s eyes.  He looked like a chocolate lover boy that I was curious to taste.

“Sorry I’m late.  I got onto the wrong train and had to back track my way here.”

I coughed hoping to find my voice.  Oh my god this was my Raj! Well not “my” Raj, but the Raj I was set up to meet.

I got up to greet him and was about to extend my hand for a handshake when he leaned in and kissed me slightly on the cheek.

“It’s nice to meet you.  Please have a seat, I’m sure you didn’t get one on the train at rush hour,” I gushed

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