Saturday- Eating with our Hands

Since the Dreamer didn't get any of the painting done of Friday, I offered to do it on Saturday. For more money, of course. My momma didn't raise no fool.

I was chatting with Mr. Dimple the night before and discovered that the house was in his neighborhood. You can't pass up good fortune like that, so we decided to meet for lunch. Passing all the Ethiopian restaurants in the area the day before had given me a craving; I was thankful that he is also a fan.

When I walked up to the restaurant, Mr. Dimple was leaning on a lightpost outside. I couldn't help but giggle at the image- sunglasses, his arm crossed, one foot up. It was like something right out of The Cool Kid's Guide to Being Cool. Granted, he pretty much looks like one of the Cool Kids all the time, but in the rock 'n roll way, not the pretty preppy boy way.

We split a big combo platter of food. I was thankful he could hold his own with me- I get nervous eating Ethiopian food with someone who is timid, because I feel like I am taking all of the good stuff for myself. I also eat really fast, so it makes me feel like I'm eating a disproportionate amount. We didn't have that problem, though, and everything was devoured, even some of the injera that the food was served on. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, get yourself to an Ethiopian restaurant and try it! Alternately, this may give you a bit of an idea.)

We spent the whole meal laughing and talking. He really puts me at ease- I don't feel like he's judging me, and I can be as goofy or as highbrow as I want and he takes it all in stride. Plus there's that damn dimple...it peaks out every time he smiles and just makes me bust out into a grin.

He walked me back to my car, when I realized that I didn't know how to get to the house I was painting from the restaurant. He looked it up on his phone for me, and I sidled up really close while he did it. It was to see what was on the phone, of course. What, you thought I had some other reason for wanting to stand close to him?

Last time we said goodbye without a kiss, and we weren't going to let that happen this time. Really, it turned into three kisses- that awesome double kiss where you pull away a little bit, then go again because you're not ready to stop; then after we'd separated and were saying goodbye, I planted another one on him.

Mmm.