Nikki Yeager

He's an investment banker. My second investment banker ever. But instead of the first one who had a "did it for money" mentality, this guy loved his work. Oh, and he was Indian.

I'd like to say that I didn't pay attention to the fact he was Indian. But, well, I like Indian food. It's probably the one thing I like more than happiness. Indian food trumps all goodness in the world.

So yes, being Indian earned major points in my book.

We met at a little Italian restaurant. It was dark inside, I was wearing my brown dress that looks like  peacock threw up on it because it was laundry day. Somehow he still thought I was pretty.

I asked the waiter for a food suggestion, we ordered wine and started talking about the little details of our lives.

I had a glass of Pinot Noir as we talked about his family and his education. He grew up in India but has been here for ages- entirely Americanized. He asked me about my family, I told him they lived in Texas and my mom's a nurse.

I had another glass of wine.

He was so very nice.

Suddenly I couldn't shut up. I asked him about women in India, I told him about Cambodia. I told him he spoke perfect English. I slurred my words.

Why is the world blurry?

I had another glass.

Darn this wine is good.

Our food came and I ate. I dropped something on my lap- he didn't notice (thank god!). He asked me about school (I think), I told him all the intricate details about my future novel... in the least comprehensible way possible.

Did I eat today?

No. That's what it was, I hadn't eaten. And I was drunk. On a first date, intoxicated.

Why doesn't he notice that I'm drunk?

He smiled at me and told me he had a great time, then picked up the check like a true gentleman. Then I asked the question I needed to know above all else:

"OMG DO YOU COOK INDIAN FOOD?!?!"

Stupid question, Nikki.

"You know... since you're... Indian and all..."

Well, unfortunately he's not a big chef. BUT he did walk me to the train and ask me on a second date. Needless to say, I've stayed away from the wine since.

Oh, the things I do...

Read the Craigslist Chronicles: Volume 2