When I walked in last Friday, my stomach tightened a little when I realized that Shawarma Nazi was the guy taking everyone's orders. But instead of being greeted with his usual impatient glare, he smiled at me and started talking to me in a very animated way, complete with Italian hand gestures. He asked me if I wanted my usual, the chicken shawarma, then winked at me. What the... What?! Then he told me about how he hates going to other restaurants because he "knows how much everything really costs," except when he's on a date. Then he'll happily take her to any fancy restaurant she chooses. It was disconcerting--this out-of-the-blue flirtation. I wondered what powerful anti-depressant he was taking and how I might casually get him to spill the name of it, so I could invest all of my savings in the pharmaceutical company that makes this new wonder drug. Powerful stuff. Let's just say, had Sylvia Plath taken this drug, she would have gone on to be known for her hilarious children's stories and silly parody songs, instead of a depressing book that foreshadowed her tragic death.
He surprised me with a glass of iced tea while I waited at a nearby table for my takeout order. He pulled up a chair and told me I wouldn't believe what kind of life he's had. I asked him if he had his own reality tv show, the modern-day apotheosis of America's larger-than-life characters. Not yet, he joked. When he told me he didn't trust people who were superficially nice in a chit-chatty sort of way, I told him he must not have grown up where I did in Wisconsin, where people don't trust you if you're *not* chatty and friendly with strangers. He gushed that he was a huge fan of the Green Bay Packers, especially of former quarterback Brett Favre. WTF? I'm having a conversation about my beloved childhood football team with the Shawarma Nazi?!
His interest in me was odd, given how he has ALWAYS treated me with the same disdain he treats every other customer in the joint. Aside from a powerful new anti-depressant, the only other explanation for his abrupt change in behavior toward me is that he was boogie boarding on the waves of positive emotional energy I am emanating these days, no doubt a wonderful side effect of having a new boyfriend(!). Frenchy, the new beau, has noticed a distinct difference in how women are reacting toward him too. Funny how once you're in a meaningful relationship, other people seem to be drawn to you when you could care less. But when you're actively looking for a significant other, it feels as if people relate to you like the Soup Nazi to his customers.
I was relieved when my order was up, because if I lingered for another five minutes, I think he might have asked for my number. I'm not sure what I'll do the next time I need a shawarma fix. If I go back there and he asks me out, I risk having to turn down Shawarma Nazi and the possible public humiliation of being loudly chastised with "No shawarma for you!" On the other hand, it's the *best* chicken shawarma I've had in LA, so going to another place isn't really an option. On the scale of life problems, I concede that this one ranks somewhere between not being able to dvr all of this evening's episodes of Happily Divorced and making the irksome discovery that Target is all out of your favorite tissue (the softest kind with lotion) when your allergies are on the warpath.
He surprised me with a glass of iced tea while I waited at a nearby table for my takeout order. He pulled up a chair and told me I wouldn't believe what kind of life he's had. I asked him if he had his own reality tv show, the modern-day apotheosis of America's larger-than-life characters. Not yet, he joked. When he told me he didn't trust people who were superficially nice in a chit-chatty sort of way, I told him he must not have grown up where I did in Wisconsin, where people don't trust you if you're *not* chatty and friendly with strangers. He gushed that he was a huge fan of the Green Bay Packers, especially of former quarterback Brett Favre. WTF? I'm having a conversation about my beloved childhood football team with the Shawarma Nazi?!
His interest in me was odd, given how he has ALWAYS treated me with the same disdain he treats every other customer in the joint. Aside from a powerful new anti-depressant, the only other explanation for his abrupt change in behavior toward me is that he was boogie boarding on the waves of positive emotional energy I am emanating these days, no doubt a wonderful side effect of having a new boyfriend(!). Frenchy, the new beau, has noticed a distinct difference in how women are reacting toward him too. Funny how once you're in a meaningful relationship, other people seem to be drawn to you when you could care less. But when you're actively looking for a significant other, it feels as if people relate to you like the Soup Nazi to his customers.
I was relieved when my order was up, because if I lingered for another five minutes, I think he might have asked for my number. I'm not sure what I'll do the next time I need a shawarma fix. If I go back there and he asks me out, I risk having to turn down Shawarma Nazi and the possible public humiliation of being loudly chastised with "No shawarma for you!" On the other hand, it's the *best* chicken shawarma I've had in LA, so going to another place isn't really an option. On the scale of life problems, I concede that this one ranks somewhere between not being able to dvr all of this evening's episodes of Happily Divorced and making the irksome discovery that Target is all out of your favorite tissue (the softest kind with lotion) when your allergies are on the warpath.
or if he asks you out you could simply tell him you're involved with somebody at the moment... and have 6 children so you don't have time to date.
ReplyDeleteHow bad is it that all I want to ask is where can I get some of this chicken shawarma? :) [Jeanne]
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