The Rule Book

Chapter 3 - First date

A first date for a young lady like you, my dear reader, is very much like a first battle for a soldier. Like in the situation which the soldier faces on a battlefield even the slightest of folly on the part of a young woman may lead to her doom. A young woman's personality comes out most strongly in her first date.She must not seem overly desperate and out to please, nor potray herself as an introvert.She plays the role of a sales man of sorts clearly putting her thoughts and ideas in front of her, tailoring them to please the man sitting across the table........

First dates are supposed to feel romantic. I have watched enough chickflicks to know that I'm supposed to be checking myself out in the mirror about 500 times and gushing to my BFF's or something about it. But all my friends {excluding the ones I'm forced to be nice to because my mother and their father's sisters' cousins' aunt are"practically like sisters"} are pursuing higher studies or at the least doing something worthwhile while I'm stuck with this useless charade. And its not like I can afford to walk out because I have the best job ever. I have always wanted to be a war journalist and work for BBC ever since I was little. I worked hard to earn my degree but under my mother's influence my dream job took a drastic turn. I am now chief editor of a daily gossip magazine. So while my heart yearns to write about issues that really matter like the Syrian crisis I'm stuck with '10 easy steps to a toned body'.

My mother is obviously a nervous wreck about the whole situation. Breakfast goes along the following lines:

"Good morning,Ellie"

"Mornin' "

"....and do not use short forms like this again. He has done his major in English, he may not like it"

"who?"

"Jordan .....Elizabeth's son . I spoke to you about him the whole of yesterday. Surely you remember something?"

"Oh"

"This is absolutely ridiculous Ellie.....completely careless on your part ....now have only that cup of coffee and then change."

"mother this is absolutely ridiculous. I am having my pancakes without butter....it doesn't contain that many calories"

"Eliie...we spoke about this......he owns a chain of resteraunts ...He is taking you to one of them....you are supposed to be hungry ....Ellie do you remember anything I said about him ?"

"Ignorance is bliss"

"Fine treat your old ailing mother like this and when she dies...... you will feel sorry"

"Mother you are only 55"

This went on for a while till I finally realised that I couldn't argue any further and went upstairs. I wore my glittery funeral shroud which according to freaky Fred defined 'elegance and fashion' but to me represented the perfect ditzy glittery barbie look. I then allowed Stella, my mother's beautician to slap makeup all over my face. The limo was parked at the gate around 11 and of course I was not not allowed to wear a watch because I did not have one that matched my 100 other accesories. Today Andre was my chauffer. He was the one who had driven me to preschool recitals and graduation. He said the nicest thing any one had ever said to me in that whole day.

" 'sokay mam he isn't as dumb as the rest of them peoples are"

The eateries' name was 'The roast and coffee bean' and it had a very warm, ethnic look to it. I bet the poor schmuck who designed it got fired the minute it got inaugarated for not making it snazzy enough. As I walk in I am confronted by a woman in a smart Armani suit who gestures to me to sit on a plush sofa outside the dining area till her boss arrives while simultaneously taking down bookings on phone. I was getting a little impatient . Scratch that. I was annoyed, bored and annoyed mostly with him.... and my mother.

The woman put her phone down and inspected me closely. After a while she said

"I like the touch of the blue streak but he's really not the rock chick type...doesn't that book of yours say you have to sugar up to him?"

She must've read my thoughts through my expression because she laughed and said

"I see a bunch of you rich girls every week acting like simpering puppies holding that book in their hands like its the bloody Bible......you are a different one aren't you?"

I was about to reply but then Jordan showed up. He was a really good looking guy but you really don't rate a guys hotness when he's made you wait for him forever.

"Look I'm really sorry I'm late ......I had this big bustup at this meeting........anyway do you like the place?"

"Yeah I really like the place.The sofas out here are very soft. I know cause I had to sit on them for one hour"

"wha-at?"

whoops.

I decided to quickly cover up and get this date over with as fast as possible.

"why don't we get something to eat ?" I say using my most charming smile.

We head over to the table and the idiot doesn't even have the decency to pull out my chair for me . So I seat myself because I'm not going to stand there like some needy hitch hiker and then order myself the most expensive wine before he can offer.

Then he starts talking. Its probably worse than sitting outside waiting cause he is so nervous and keeps babbling. He also kept on using the word like to a point where I actualy began to keep tally. Eventually the conversation turned towards me.

"So elliot what to you like to do?"

It is then that my mind gets the brilliant idea of following the book.{it must've been the wine} I mean he owns a couple of resteraunts....how hard could it be?

"I love to cook"

"Really"

"Really.....all the time"

"Have you cooked with any one famous?"

"Matt"

"Who?"

"er....preston?!"

"wow thats incredible!!"

"Well its nothing great really we meet up all the time. In fact I'm going to see him when I visit Australia next month"

"But isn't he touring India next month? He cancelled his meeting with me for it . I wanted to work on a collabaration with him"

shit

"Oh.....right so thats what his e-mail was about no wonder.....I haven't read it yet ...we...um"

Thankfully the conversation turned back to him and I'm left to my daydreams. We are eventually served desert and from the first bite I knew something was wrong. Deserts don't usually make me want to die. Actually chocolate does make me want to go to heaven but that's not really considered dying is it?

"Um jordan .....what is this???"

"Walnut fudge....you said you would have the same thing as me"

Allergy alert. Out of all the dishes he could have ordered he had to choose one with walnut. Makes me hate him more than my mother. I don't even have my meds. I have to get out.There are many ways to politely brush a person off.

"Sorry Jordan I have to go I'm dying" is not one of them. Unfortunately those were my exact words.

I didn't even thank him for his company or fix up another date with him as my mother told me to do. I did not even stop to hear him call after me as I rushed outside looking for Andre amongst the sea of limos.