Cafe Friday #7

Things have been moving along finally with the cafe, I'm glad to say.  The sale of Tango's was made final earlier this week...and Honor and her team won. Yeah. You would think I'd be deeply upset about everything but I'm so not.  Once we were unable to get the cafe protected as a historical landmark, we knew it was only a matter of time.  Thankfully, my foresighted sister Justice was able to find an alternative location just a few blocks over.  It's closer to the park and has a sizable kitchen, it just needs a lot of love.  We still haven't decided on a name yet though, not for lack of trying.  Our little family team has been throwing out ideas in the group text, and every time one is particularly horrible, Tuba sends a hilarious GIF.  Joah called in one of his design buddies from college to mock up a good layout for the space.  We have some cozy corner booths planned, and a decent sized stage area for open mic nights and featured artists on weekends.  Many of our culinary team has volunteered to be part of the construction team, and Daniel has been a big help, making sure everything is up to code.  He's been able to source quality materials at better than anticipated prices, and that keeps our lovely manager very happy.  In fact, Daniel and Justice have been smiling a lot at each other during this project, giggling like 2nd graders on a bus on a field trip, much to my roommate's chagrin.

Speaking of hearts and sprinkles, things are pretty cool with Joah and I right now.  Listen, despite what my heart screams, I don't logically have any delusions that he wants to be my "boo", even though he is complimentary and affectionate.  He's like that with everybody (I think), he's an outgoing person, passionate about life and living it to the fullest.  I repeat this in the mirror to myself, every time we hang out.  He comes over almost every Sunday now, in sweats and a comfy t-shirt, and parks here all day.  I'll make breakfast in the morning, he'll show me photos from the renovation and from other projects he's working on, we'll conference call with the team around noon.  He'll do some editing on his Macbook, I'll straighten up the apartment a bit, and Emmi will finally emerge from her room, grab her plate and say thank you, and slunk back into her room again.  We usually play chess or some other board game (he refuses to play me on PS4 anymore), and laugh about our exes and many failed first dates.  We might end up watching an awards show or an old movie, and always always order in Chinese. 

This past Sunday, after ragging on his selfie obsessed date from the night before, Joah says "T-dot, you should come out on a Saturday with me sometime, show these vapid females how it's done!"

     "You play too much Joe-Ah."

     "I'm not even playing, we should go out!  We should hit up Takul, that new place downtown, you know half of the people we used to work with will be up there, looking all bourgeoisie and eating $30 soup. We'll show 'em what looking good looks like.  If we have a positive date experience, then we'll know what to expect and accept moving forward.  Besides, all this cafe stuff is making you cranky."

It was hard to argue with him there, but I still threw a chopstick at him in protest.  Monday evening after work, I told Emmi, who was back to her perky old self, about his proposition. She beamed, "Truth, do you know what this means? He asked you on an actual date, in a roundabout way, but still!"

     "This is only for scientific purposes.  We will act in an ideal date-like manner in order to establish what we want out of a real date, and possibly raise eyebrows among some of our former colleagues."

     "IT'S A DATE!! No denying it this time!" she says as she shimmies around the couch.  My inner brain held up a giant Oh Snap sign.  It's different going out with him, I know him, much more deeply than most I chop it up with over pasta and laughs.  I spent the better half of the week trying to decide what to wear, and if I should go to the salon or not.  I went. I got my locs re-twisted and the stylist set them in braids.  I loosed them into flowing waves Saturday afternoon, and took a few extra pains with my makeup (thank you YouTube tutorial ladies).  Around 7:30, Joah texted Emmi; she peeked around the corner and said "Your chariot awaits!" with the goofiest smile on her face.

I reached the top of the stoop stairs in my flowing aubergine maxi dress with a split to the thigh, pretty copper jewelry and some red bottoms I'd borrowed from the perky one.  Joah was a dapper sight in a navy blue suit, crisp white shirt and a caramel colored kerchief matching the color of his shoes.  He tried to keep his cool, but his face told it all, mission accomplished. 

     "Alright now, remember, we are practicing how a real date should be, so you can't be mean to me!", he teased.

I started to protest in my usual manner, but instead I simply cooed "Yes dear." and cupped his face with my hand.  He uneasily cleared his throat. When we arrived to the restaurant, he came around to open my door, and I stuck my leg out like Ms. Jolie.  Before he grabbed my hand he cleared his throat again.  "Are you alright, babe?" I asked.  "Fine, I mean I'm fine. But I mean you're fine too, but..."  I looked at him in earnest and spoke in my normal voice, "Look, you are not being a very good fake date! Are we gonna do this thing or not, cause we have to really sell it!"  He shifted his shoulders, adjusted his jacket; "Let's do this!" he said.  And so we did.

We entered the restaurant like we were celebrities that just got back from Dubai.  On the way to the table, I did recognize a few people, one snob did a double take when she saw us come through.  At the table, I asked the garcon questions about the menu in French, while Joah looked on adoringly.  We asked each other questions we already knew the answers to, and laughed and smiled like we were having the best time in the world.  But after a couple of courses, and a glass and a half of Chianti, we asked questions we didn't know the answers too, and smiled from honest places.

Our pleasant faux date haze was abruptly interrupted by a "Well hello there! Isn't this a sight to see!"  Honor and her bewildered date stood to the left of our table.

     "Honor, Xavier, it's nice to see you." Joah the jokester had receded, and he spoke in an authoritative tone.
     "So, what are you two doing here?"
     "I should think it'd be obvious. I'm on a date with my queen."
     "Your queen? You two...are together...oh I see, you're trying to get some funding for your new project. Sweetie, you should have wore something a little more low cut."
At this point, Joah stood up.  "Truth has not taken a dime from me for her restaurant. Unlike some people, she doesn't need to offer her physical services to further her goals and career.  That's why she's a queen, my queen.  Maybe you can be like her when you grow up."
     "Excuse me?!"
     "Yes, you are excused.", and he pointed towards the exit.

Honor stormed off, dragging Xavier behind her. Joah sat down and tried to regain his composure.  We ate quietly for a bit, taking slurps of  (extremely delicious) thirty dollar soup.
     " Can I just say what a BOSS you are King?"
He smiled and looked up.  "Let's fake date again next week Queen."
I nodded, squeezed his hand, and agreed.