I had been begging pleading and whining to Nick about us needing a date night for some time.
One night, in a show of protest I stormed off to our local pub by myself.
I ordered a plate of fries, Jack and Coke and then sat on a couch pretending to understand what was going on during the televised rugby game.
The pub was crowded with a visiting rugby team as well as the locals and some older students from Lincoln University who want to appear like they aren't all about the thesis.
There was one particularly inebriated young rugby player who kept trying to give random strangers a high five.
Those of us sitting around the television grinned at each other when he attempted to greet a whole family this way.
After I had finished my drink I headed out the door and was promptly noticed by the drunk athlete.
I decided to humor him and give him a high five. This turned into a bear hug and a request for my cell number.
I said I didn't think my partner would like that to which he replied, "Hey, what happens on tour stays on tour."
"I'm not on tour mate," I said, walking away.
Inwardly, I was pleased that in certain low lit conditions heavily intoxicated young men would find me attractive.
"You've still got it Phillips," I said to myself.
When I told Nick what had happened he sulked.
Not long after this however, he found a fusion Mexican restaurant and date night was on.
Nick's choice was difficult for him. He said it's because I always judge the hell out of anything claiming to be Mexican and am likely to call it "inauthentic."
There is truth in this.
I have been a tad insufferable when it comes to Mexican manifestations in New Zealand.
I will now say to myself, No seas un pedo mojado!
Anyway, I was positively elated that we were going out.
We both wore our pea coats and looked like any other normal couple going out and doing normal couple things.
The restaurant Nick chose was called "Mexico" and it had the requisite artwork containing images of crucifixes, Frida Kahlo, Dia de los Muertos, and Lucha Libre.
What we were fed for the mains was not anything that I would have recognized as Mexican had I been blindfolded.
There were so many unusual flavor combinations that I felt like my brain might be getting sharper just trying to interpret all the new signals coming its way from my tongue.
The food was delicious even though most of it was unlike anything I had ever tried before.
We had churros for dessert and they tasted just as I remembered them in Mexico.
After dinner we went to see the new Melissa McCarthy movie Spy.
The film was very funny. Nick said it was one of the best movies he had seen in a long time and I enjoyed seeing another great, female-driven comedy.
Spending the evening with my favorite Kiwi was just what I needed.
Hurrah for date night and the date nights still to come!
One night, in a show of protest I stormed off to our local pub by myself.
I ordered a plate of fries, Jack and Coke and then sat on a couch pretending to understand what was going on during the televised rugby game.
The pub was crowded with a visiting rugby team as well as the locals and some older students from Lincoln University who want to appear like they aren't all about the thesis.
There was one particularly inebriated young rugby player who kept trying to give random strangers a high five.
Those of us sitting around the television grinned at each other when he attempted to greet a whole family this way.
After I had finished my drink I headed out the door and was promptly noticed by the drunk athlete.
I decided to humor him and give him a high five. This turned into a bear hug and a request for my cell number.
I said I didn't think my partner would like that to which he replied, "Hey, what happens on tour stays on tour."
"I'm not on tour mate," I said, walking away.
Inwardly, I was pleased that in certain low lit conditions heavily intoxicated young men would find me attractive.
"You've still got it Phillips," I said to myself.
When I told Nick what had happened he sulked.
Not long after this however, he found a fusion Mexican restaurant and date night was on.
Nick's choice was difficult for him. He said it's because I always judge the hell out of anything claiming to be Mexican and am likely to call it "inauthentic."
There is truth in this.
I have been a tad insufferable when it comes to Mexican manifestations in New Zealand.
I will now say to myself, No seas un pedo mojado!
Anyway, I was positively elated that we were going out.
We both wore our pea coats and looked like any other normal couple going out and doing normal couple things.
The restaurant Nick chose was called "Mexico" and it had the requisite artwork containing images of crucifixes, Frida Kahlo, Dia de los Muertos, and Lucha Libre.
What we were fed for the mains was not anything that I would have recognized as Mexican had I been blindfolded.
There were so many unusual flavor combinations that I felt like my brain might be getting sharper just trying to interpret all the new signals coming its way from my tongue.
The food was delicious even though most of it was unlike anything I had ever tried before.
We had churros for dessert and they tasted just as I remembered them in Mexico.
After dinner we went to see the new Melissa McCarthy movie Spy.
The film was very funny. Nick said it was one of the best movies he had seen in a long time and I enjoyed seeing another great, female-driven comedy.
Spending the evening with my favorite Kiwi was just what I needed.
Hurrah for date night and the date nights still to come!
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