HIGH MAINTENANCE

HIGH MAINTENANCE

 

It was our first date after we met online and developed a mutual spark. We agreed to have dinner and watch a movie. She picked the movie and I chose the restaurant. I don’t remember her name now. But she had jaw-dropping beauty, a contagious smile and engaging wit.

 

We met at the bustling and sprawling City Mall. A tight, black mini dress accentuated her curves in all the right places. Her mahogany skin shone like lacquer. She wore a pretty and sparkly diamond necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. I couldn't help but stare like a fool. The sunlight struck the facets of the pendant and a prism of rainbows enveloped us where we stood. A picture-perfect ambience for a first date.

 

We were the cynosure of all eyes. She held onto my arm and we went into the state-of-the-art multi-screen cinema at about 7pm. I don't remember much about the movie plot. Things got awkward as soon as we plonked down in our seats.

 

She was sandwiched between me and an overweight, bearded gentleman in the aisle seat. He was an older man with glasses and grey hair. I had no issue with the beard or his waistline, but I don't like rude movie talkers. People who run live commentaries. My date and the portly gentleman struck up a conversation and gave us loud unsolicited opinions about the movie. She'd lean into him, touch his arm and say something about the plot. He'd break out in uncontrollable laughter with his hand on her thigh or placed across her shoulders. He was probably old enough to be her grandfather. She didn’t seem to mind the wandering hand. Their talk went on and on, and on, and on like an annoying alarm that has no off switch or snooze button. It was not cool at all. They drew angry glares, but I don’t think they even noticed. I chomped on my popcorn and watched the big screen with all the enthusiasm of a deflated balloon. My bright red balloon had become a sad scrap of rubber. 

 

We walked out of the theatre and she reached out and held my hand. Grandpa stood nearby at the ticket stand, watching us and stroking his beard. I glowered at him and he slunk away. His enormous belly quivered as he navigated his way.

"He's going the other way," I told her.

"Who?"

''Your friend with the beard." 

She smiled and gave me an apologetic look, but my face was sour, stern and disapproving. I said nothing more to her until we got to the restaurant. The expensive Chinese restaurant served great food and was located at the crowded food court of the mall. She was excited as we perused the menu and placed our orders. I wanted a plate of sizzling beef with black bean. She ordered spring rolls, chicken feet, spare ribs, egg tarts, black truffle dumplings, rice noodles, jelly fish and fried cod. Her meal was heaped on three plates. She almost cried in anticipation of the food. 

"You must be really hungry," I remarked.

She nodded. "I'm famished." 

The portions seemed too big for one person. But then, the long running commentary with the portly gentleman was exhausting work and she needed to replenish her energy. 

 

She called the waiter and placed orders for takeaways. I realized this was greed, not actual hunger. The vibes were troubling. 

“I have a roommate. She must be really hungry now,” she said at my raised eyebrow.

 

At the end of the long evening, we walked to my car at the parking lot. I had called a cab for her. We were headed in opposite directions and she had three takeaway bags.

"I'd need some money from you,” she said. Her bags were on the hood of my black SUV as we waited for her Uber ride.

"Money for the cab? Don't worry. I will take care of it."

"Not just for the cab," she replied and reached in her purse. She took out a folded slip of paper. It had a list of items and she started reading in a monotone. She needed money for her house rent, new wardrobe, eye surgery, dental work...

 

Her voice was like knives in my eardrum and caused me physical agony. As she continued reading, I glanced around the parking lot. Where was portly grandpa when you needed him to collect his new girlfriend? He probably wasn't with us anymore.