Once I met this journalist online who sounded like a very interesting, fun person. We talked for a while, and then he invited me to a restaurant.
“What kind of food do you like?” he asked.
“Oh, I love Indian food,” I said.
“Well, that’s fantastic because this is my favorite food, too!”
So we went to an Indian restaurant I really liked. At the restaurant, I ordered vindaloo because I adore it.
“I love this dish!” my date exclaimed. “I’ll order it, too.”
Two minutes after we started eating, though, I noticed something was wrong. My date became very red, and sweat gathered on his forehead.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” he said. “The food is delicious.”
After a very short while, he started hyperventilating. Tears were streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled and ran to the bathroom.
“What happened?” I asked when he came back looking completely sick.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m allergic to pepper.”
“Then why on Earth did you order this?”
“I wanted you to think we had things in common,” was his response.
I didn’t want this good person to do any permanent damage to his health for the sake of impressing me, so I refused to see him again.
“I can’t believe you are dumping me just because I don’t like Indian food!” he kept saying the entire time I was telling him we shouldn’t see each other any longer.
Who knows, he might be posting a story on his blog right now about this weird lady who dumped him for not liking Indian food.
this sounds so cool !!!
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