Millet, Quinoa, Latin American Men and A Lot of Self-Doubt

I like tall men with quick wit, warm hearts and olive skin.  Is that too much to ask for?  So when I was asked out by a 6’3” Latin American student of Eastern Medicine, whom I will call Franz; I said “YES!”

I met Franz at a delightful little Indian restaurant in the Clearwater/Largo area.  When we walked in, a woman who I assume is somewhat mentally challenged, yelled out from her table:  “The goat curry has GOAT!  The fish vindaloo has FISH!”  I have never been the model of social grace and decorum, so I immediately began laughing at this woman’s truth.  “Never a truer word has been spoken,” I whispered to Franz during my inappropriate hysterical snickering.

Franz is a very handsome man.  Thick hair, olive weathered skin that brings to mind a life spent outdoors, enjoying every single moment.  Cute, adorable smile.  He was simply dressed and had the quiet demeanor of an Eastern monk.  I stared at him and tried to ascertain whether there was a steamy, smoldering font of lusty passion inside him or whether he was just a cold fish.  I couldn’t tell.  My powers of intuition tend to fail when trying to figure out men.

The Indian restaurant was having a buffet for Sunday lunch.  Everything looked great.  And yes, the goat curry had goat and the fish vindaloo had fish in it.  I gravitated to my usual favorites: butter chicken, chana masala, raita, naan and rice.  There was also a vegetable dish with peas and carrots that called out to me.  Each dish was perfectly spiced, fragrant smelling and delicious.  I definitely would like to visit this restaurant again.  It is so hard to find really good Indian food in the Tampa Bay area. 

Franz is not a spicy food eater, which was odd since he suggested the Indian restaurant.  Given his bland appetite, he should have taken me to “Uncle Louie’s House of Bland Foods.”  Within three forkfuls of the Indian buffet, Franz had completely broken out in a gushing sweat from every single pore on his face.  As the spices were causing a nasal reaction in me, I hoped that if I ignored Franz’s sweaty face that he in turn would ignore my constant nose wiping.  Isn’t that how it works, socially?  I hope!  Eventually Franz ran to the restroom to wipe down his face.  I loved the food, but it did not make for the most appealing first date bodily effects!

Being half-Asian, having traveled to Asia many times and having a friend who recently used acupuncture instead of drugs while giving birth to her first son; I was very curious to hear about Franz’s Eastern Medicine studies.  Perhaps his sweaty brow was less from the spicy Indian food and more from my interrogation style of questioning?  Hmmm….

Franz divulged his personal history and personal philosophy of life over a second plate of Indian food.  Franz did not drink alcohol.  He viewed his body as a temple and only ate healthy food.  He sang the virtues of millet and quinoa.  I stared at him and wondered how such a tiny word like “millet” could suck all the sexuality out of me.

My life is a series of pendulum swings – sometimes I am reclusive and introverted.  Sometimes I am ferociously manic and social, as if I were dying tomorrow.  My life spins in cycles … the moon, the tides and my level of personal insanity ebb and flow.  I have been riding a particularly manic social crescent lately.  I’ve been drinking more, going out more and just plain doing more than usual.  However being a person who lives in cycles, I don’t question any particular cycle that I happen to be in because I know eventually I will be at the polar opposite of the current cycle I am in.  That’s just me.  No need to question.

So here I am, in a more boozy, floozy, social cycle sitting across from a tall, handsome, Zen Monk-demeanor guy who is extolling the virtues of millet and quinoa.  And the first thing my catty, bitchy brain can think of is: “Oh yeah?  If you eat so healthy, why do you have a beer belly?”  And the second thing I think of is: “Doesn’t drink?  Solitary man?  This guy may be too wholesome and healthy for the likes of someone like me.”  Third thought in my head: “Ohhh I’m way too polluted for this, the timetable for the next emotional cycle may need to accelerate… NOW.  NOW.  NOW!”

I have a ridiculously large ego for someone who on occasion has the self-esteem of a slug.  Sitting across from Franz, thinking that this man may actually be too healthy and too together to date me was not a comfortable feeling for me.  Usually my commitment-phobic brain is calling out all the faults in a new date, but instead my traitor brain was listing out all my snarly flaws!  Ugh.  Stop that!

After lunch, Franz and I went for a long walk.  I was wearing 4 inch wedge platforms.  I loved that Franz was still taller than me in my huge heels!  Franz and I discussed more of Eastern medicine and then perhaps in a sabotaging move, I asked a question that should not be asked on a first date.  “So, what are your political views?”

Franz said that he was a combination of liberal and fascist.

Whaaaat?

Liberal and fascist.

Now seriously, I should have just changed the conversation topic at this point.  I knew the politics question was a bad one and now I could feel myself already sinking in the quicksand of his response.  But I’m ever so curious … too curious for my own good.  And so I asked “Um, could you explain that a little more?”

Franz thought that the government should put a sterilizing agent in the public water supply.  If you want to have children, you would need to apply for a license and if approved, you’d get a temporary antidote to the sterilizing agent.  Franz then continued about how we have the technology to painlessly and temporarily sterilize everyone in the world, right now and that this is a plan that should be put in action!

As I was 6’1” in my platform heels, my jaw had a long way to go as it hit the concrete sidewalk.

My eyes must have bugged out of my head, because Franz quickly had this ashen look of “Uh oh, said too much” and tried to reel in his tongue. 

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but I seriously felt my uterus scream as Franz talked about forced public sterilization.

The remainder of the conversation was a futile attempt to seem normal after a bomb had gone off.  My brain was reeling and Franz was embarrassed and a promising first date went right off the rails.

After another 15 minutes, I received a text from my friend LM cancelling our plans that night.  LM had returned from a cruise the night before and unfortunately, for her, the Earth was still rocking like a wayward boat.  I lied to Franz and said LM had asked to meet earlier and I had to go.  I’m sorry Franz, I lied.  (But I have no regrets!)

I gave Franz a hug goodbye and he squeezed my butt.  Seriously?  Millet, quinoa, forced sterilization and an ass grab?  Franz, I underestimated you entirely!

It was my first and only date with Franz.  We had exchanged some texts and emails afterward, but we could not rebuild after the bomb blast of Franz’s political views.  The goat curry has GOAT.  The fish vindaloo has FISH.  And this date has NO SECOND DATE.

I breathed a sigh of relief that I did not have to do a lot of soul-searching on whether Franz was too wholesome to date me.  His political views erased the need for that mental calculus all together!  Back to the dating pool for Franz.  Back to the dating pool for me.

P.S.  I had originally wanted to combine this blog post with my review of the Indian restaurant, but I did not want to link the name of a great Indian restaurant with a post on forced public sterilization.  So if you’re looking for a good Indian restaurant in the Clearwater/Largo area, email me at LilyOnTheLam@gmail.com and I’d be happy to share the name of the great restaurant!