Last night was a spectacular night. Oh so spectacular.
Being the modern woman that I am, I decided that it was high time I took the Minimalist out on a date. Being the modern, broke man that he is, the Minimalist accepted. So after he got out of class (because apparently he goes to class, despite my by efforts to convince myself he doesn’t) he came over, drank a beer, and we were off.
After hearing that Mellow Mushroom had vegan cheese I decided that I needed a pizza smothered in it. When I mentioned that to my day, I think he was more than apprehensive, but I won some points by choosing to sit outside and because there was an extensive beer list.
I scored even more points when I suggested peppers, onions, and mushrooms on the pizza. Apparently, his mother doesn’t like any of those so he is constantly surprised when a girl likes them.
At least I know it’s not an entirely Freudian connection.
We even did the couple thing with his side, her side meat—Italian sausage for him, jerk tofu for me. Are we sickeningly adorable, yet?
Dinner continued wonderfully. The pizza was damn delicious. And when he ordered his second beer there was a mix-up and I got one, too. I was wary at first, but it didn’t take much prompting to get me to drink it. I even shared a few sips with him.
Disgusting? It gets worse.
Once we ate our fill, drank our beers, and stayed until they started cleaning up around so, we walked back to my car. I parked a few blocks away so we spent the entire walk back with our arms around each other, laughing and chatting. He even carried my box of leftovers.
We have gotten so disgustingly cute over this past year. Just think, I used to ignore him at parties.
Wait, I still do that.
I guess I haven’t matured that much yet. But I did win this date.