Friday, October 20, 2006 7:28 p.m.

It had only been less than half an hour since the beginning of this "date," but Cindy and Aram had already arrived to the half-time lull in conversation stage. Somehow, Cindy didn't feel that uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because she was wearing her usual after-work, beginning of the weekend comfy jeans and a sweatshirt as opposed to the clothes she had bought specifically for the occasion the week before.

Or perhaps it was the food. Usually, Cindy weas very self-conscious in her eating habits when she was out in public. After years of working in food service, she had seen enough hog trough-like eating habits where the person just chomped away happily, dribbling all manner of gravies and cheese-sauces on themselves in blissful oblivion. The last thing she wanted was to join those ranks when she was at the receiving end of the service industry. Especially since those people tended to leave messy tables and disproportionate tips for the labor required to clear away the rubble.

Now Cindy was more in awe of how amazing everything tasted that she didn't notice the dark spot on her jeans. As she dipped her naan bread into the lamb korma sauce, she hadn't put it in her mouth fast enough, so a drop of it had escaped from the buttery flatbread onto her lap. Bits of rice overflowed from the bowl onto the tablecloth as she mixed the basmati rice and sauce together. She was glad that they had given her a lot of sauce despite knowing that they often did that at Mel's to reduce the amount of meat needed in the dish. In this case, the sauce and bread would have been enough to satisfy her.

Every now and then, Cindy would check herself, remembering that she was not alone in dining. She wondered if Aram kept staring at her due to her rather overenthusiastic eating habits. Yet neither of them rarely said anything other than the occasional "How's your food?" and "What have you been up to lately?" Aram told her that during his residency lately, an old man kept asking him for pizza despite being on a strict low-cholesterol diet before and after heart surgery. He felt bad for the man, but couldn't do anything about it since the man's condition was already so fragile.

"Sometimes, I wonder if it's really worth it though, you know?" Aram said quietly.

"Being a doctor?" Cindy's eyes widened. "But the work you do is so rewarding. After all, you're saving lives."

"No, I mean the fact that people live so long these days, but the quality of life is not so good." He explained. "Is it worth it to live so long if in order to do so, you must sacrifice things you love, even if you know they are inherently bad for you?"

"I never thought of it that way before." She looked at her food again, wondering if what she was eating would be considered "healthy" or if the addition of meat or any particular changes in the recipe due to regional tastes changed that. The naan really was loaded with butter, after all. No, she decided, this was healthy. Even if it wasn't, it couldn't be worse than pizza or hamburgers.

"Either that, or medical science just needs to catch up with age." Aram mused. "I think that the way we treat people now still reflects on the death mentality that we aren't supposed to live this long. Perhaps if we change the mindset and the results we are looking for, we might be able to improve the quality of life in the later stages."

Now Cindy felt a bit lost, not to mention a bit uncomfortable. She remembered when her grandmother died of Alzheimer's when she was a teenager. One of the most unpleasant experiences of her life was to go visit the nursing home where she lived. Granted, she had only been there once just before her grandma died, but still. All Cindy could remember was the dim lighting and a really bitter smell in the air. She saw people wandering around the halls and rooms, not really looking where they were going. They didn't even seem like people anymore. Even if she didn't know her grandmother that well, she still didn't think it was right to leave her in a place like this. Sometimes Cindy wondered if her grandmother would have lived longer if she didn't have to die in a place like that. It seemed like that was all those places were good for, putting people away to wait for death.

"Cindy?" Aram reached out to touch her hand but hesitated as soon as he got her attention. "I apologize. I really shouldn't be talking about such things at the table."

"No, it's all right." She smiled. "I like learning more about you and what you think about things."

Another pause set in as both seemed to be looking for words, the right thing to jumpstart the conversation again. Cindy seemed to look for the right words in her food, continuing to stir the sauce and rice together and lift the fork to her mouth for every warm bite. The soft, but not mushy consistency of the rice seemed a better compliment to the slight heat which grew to an interesting plateau of flavor: rising from sweetness and leveling out to an all-over slow burn and then plunging back into a slight tang. She liked the slow burn as opposed to the usual quick fire of the tobasco sauce she once put on her fries and burgers to see if she liked "spicy" food at work during her break once.

Aram seemed to look for his words under the table where his foot occasionally tapped against the table legs. The only thing he seemed to find was a spare fork which someone had dropped and neglected to return. Fortunately, it was clean, but he hid it nonetheless underneath his cloth napkin discreetly.

Yet after what seemed like mere moments, this silence was not uncomfortable, but almost welcome. Usually she was so nervous on dates, but for whatever reason, she felt at complete ease. Maybe it was a combination of being in relaxed clothing and eating delicious food that put her in a more peaceful state of mind. Yet the thought still occurred to her: maybe this wasn't really a date. Still, she enjoyed herself and her surroundings, not to mention her intriguing company. That certainly didn't mean that a lack of conversation was a bad thing. So, Cindy took the time to look around the lobby at the richly-painted wood paneling. She wondered if the maroon and muted gold color schemes were part of the original theater. Granted, she had been at the Phoenix years before, but never really paid attention to her surroundings. She noticed that even the tablecloths and napkins were varied shades of crimson. Also, the silverware was more of a bronze color compared to the usual steel.

Then she looked at Aram with the subtle candlelight wavering across his face. She wasn't sure if the neatly-trimmed beard made him look older or younger. It was still possible that he was older than she had previously thought. He had never explicitly stated his age. The beard may very well have hidden smile or frown lines. Then again, from Aram's demeanor, she could tell that if there were any wrinkles, they would most likely be from smiling or even laughing. Still, it didn't seem like he did much of either here. He was also very meticulous in how he ate. All he ever ordered at Mel's was a cup of coffee and a donut. Still, she always marvelled at how he managed to not get the rather conspicuous white powdered sugar all over his black beard. Even now, he took small sips of his masala chai and full bites of his sambhar with his spoon as opposed to holding the spoon to his lips and slurping it as most people she had seen eat soup.

"I'm not boring you, am I?" Cindy's eyes went away from Aram's mouth to his eyes again.

"Oh no, why would you think that?" Cindy looked down to realize that her food was gone, minus the bits she had accidentally spilled on the table.

"You just seem a little distant, that's all." He smiled, lowering his spoon to an empty bowl. By all rights, it would have taken much less time to finish his order compared to hers, yet they both managed to finish at the same time.

"I'm sorry. You know how sometimes you don't know what to say-"

"Yes, I know." He smiled, but without opening his mouth.

"I really enjoyed spending time with you, Aram." Cindy looked away for a moment.

"But?"

She laughed. "There's no 'but.' I'd like to see you again."

"I would like that as well." Aram smiled wider, more at ease.

"I just figured that we could save the entire 'getting to know you' thing for another time." She explained. "People usually hurry that here, you know?"

"I get the idea." Aram stood up while wiping his mouth with the napkin, revealing the hidden fork. "Some other time, then?"

"Sure. "

They both walked up in silence to the former ticket booth where the maitre'd took Aram's card and charged him for both of their meals. Cindy was almost tempted to offer to split the bill, but finally decided that this really was a date for a change and not just an ordinary meeting.

As they both were about to walk off in opposite directions, Aram to his car and Cindy to the bus stop, she turned around.

"There is one thing I would like to know." She called out to him down the sidewalk as other people exited the Phoenix.

"What is that?" He shouted, walking toward her.

"Why did you ask me out in the first place? Even after all this, I'm still a bit confused."

"I think I'm more confused as to why you said yes."

"Answer my question first."

"Well, you were always so nice to me." He explained, having made his way in front of her. Somehow, Aram seemed taller than Cindy remembered. "For one thing, I wanted to repay you for your kindness."

"Was that all?" Cindy's smile sagged a little. Perhaps this wasn't a date after all.

"And, as you said, I wanted to get to know you as well." He admitted. "I apologize. I should have offered you a ride home. You don't need to wait for the bus here."

"It's fine." She insisted. "Remember, we can wait to get to know each other more later. If I let you drive me home, I might be tempted to invite you in for coffee and we'd end up talking all night about life and everything."

Aram laughed. "Yes, but you always did make a great cup of coffee."

"Thank you." Cindy looked beyond Aram's shoulder. "Looks like my ride is here anyway."

"Then in that case, I shall take my leave until later." Aram tipped an imaginary hat to her.

"It was a pleasure." Cindy looked over her shoulder as she stepped onto the bus.

"The pleasure was mine." She heard Aram say as the sliding glass doors of the Blue line closed.