Dates intrigue me.
They do, honestly.
I don’t mean, history major know-it-all kind. Nope.
The girl and guy, now ofcourse, girl-girl, guy-guy, whatever gets your motor running, date.
It’s intriguing. The concept of dates is not as furnished in india as it is abroad. People are still getting used to the idea of two people roaming just because.
Take it from a person who has been an unfortunate witness to many dates, it’s not fun for the third person.
A date is like a parallel universe. It’s like, the moment the date starts, something tweaks in the time machine, and a totally different sphere is created entirely.
The sphere holds only those two people who are on a date.
The rest are chopped liver. Literally.
A couple friends of mine had a date scheduled for ages which they finally decided to carry out. Ofcourse I was supposed to go along. They felt awkward, going alone.
I don’t think they grasped the exact meaning of ‘a date’.
Anywhooo, I staggered along. Ofcourse I did. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t go on a date with two friends in ‘like’ with each other and not entirely alienate myself, making me doubt my own existence and the sad state of me being lonely for the rest of my existence, which was doubtful anyway.
They were smiling, continuously. And laughing or giggling at the silliest things.
A fat guy dropped his icecream. They ‘awww’ed. I just laughed at the poor bastard and told him he didn’t need it anyway.
A kid was getting under everyone’s feet chasing a butterfly, who clearly wasn’t the least interested in the boy, and they laughed. I raised an eyebrow and told the kid to get a life.
Oh my g—
I’m a monster.
My point remains, a date is always two people who like each other. It’s for a reason. So that the other people don’t feel like shit.
It will be fun, they said.
A lot happens over coffee, they said.
Another intriguing thing about dates and people on dates is that the person in question is always right.
Let me elaborate.
I was the third person on a couple of dates, (yes my life is sad) and then I was myself on a couple of dates (hell no, I’m awesome).
When you are the third person, you gag when they look at each other, smiles etched on their faces, eyes twinklin’, hands a-twichin’ to hold the other person’s hands. You want to take those hands and smack yourself or them. You want to flush down every single smile or giggle because it obviously isn’t funny and not every kid is a jumpsuit is cute.
Some are hideous.
But, when you’re on a date, the fat guy who dropped the icecream is the saddest case in the world. The nuisance chasing the butterfly is a goddamn angel. The squares of meat in the jumpsuits are just downright adorable.
It all changes.
The third person perspective is fun. If you’re a rock. Because then it’s your job.
The on-the-date- perspective is fun. Because everything EVERYTHING is fun. Its allll rainbows and sunshine and cookie jars under shelves.
I just wish I could be that kind of person who roams around Mumbai, targeting every single date location with a bag full of eggs and fling one at every couple who smiles at shit.
But, I’m a calmer person that way. I could never fling the eggs at them. Maybe just a shove. But, that’s just wishful thinking.
Or is it…
*scary horror movie music*