A. Laird

My Albatross

I “So, are you a foodie?” He asked, smirking as he took a sip of his whiskey. His appearance is quaint. He’s dressed up for today, wearing a red button down and dress pants. I’ve been on a date almost every day this week, and most guys have dressed pretty casually. He’s uptight; I can tell. I feel bad almost; my outfit is shit really. I should have worn a dress, but you know, hindsight is 20-20. I’m not sure what he meant by that. Am I a foodie? Does he mean do I like cooking, or does it mean if I like food? Who doesn’t like food? Someone who doesn’t like food might as well not like air. It’s just plain weird. His condescending smirk suggests that the question had a double meaning. I think he knows that it is a common question, but he’s probably said it to suggest I might not look how he thought I would. I replied, “Well, kind of… but not really. I’m good at cooking so I guess…it’s hard to dislike food if it tastes really good.” I gave an inviting smile, hiding that I found that question insulting. Why would he ask that... do I seem fat to you? I know we met on the internet but come on! Have some decency. You’re not so great yourself! At least please try to hide your inner thoughts for goodness sake.