Read Online Losing My Virginity and Other Dumb Ideas by Madhuri Banerjee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Madhuri Banerjee
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what,’ I rambled on, trying to sound intelligent for this man.
He stayed interested through the evening and dinner, which was absolutely scrumptious with a spicy pesto-crab fussili that followed the pizza and a tiramisu to end the meal. I went on talking about my life and the places I had visited. I suppose the roles had reversed in a few hours. Instead of him wanting me to sit with him a little longer, I wanted to make the date go on.
I thought that he would drop me back since it was already midnight and we had finished an entire bottle of wine but Greek God just turned to me and said, ‘Come, we need to go to our next destination.’
12.45 a.m.
We were on a private yacht sailing down the Mapusa River. This was the best date ever! The yacht was a dream. It had rooms that would make the presidential suite in a hotel seem inadequate. And here we were, sitting on the deck with another bottle of wine and a personal butler while watching Goa bathed in moonlight. Greek God pointed out all the spots again as we passed through the Salim Ali Bird Sanctuary at Chorao Island, and the villages of Salvador Do Mundo and Brittona. The cruise also took us down the Mandovi River, past the bright night lamps of Panaji–Miramar on one side and the gorgeous Reis Magoa and Aguada Fort on the other. It was really magical.
Another bottle of wine followed and our conversation became sporadic as we just enjoyed each other’s company and the lovely night. I rested my head on his shoulders, surprised at myself for becoming this comfortable with a stranger so quickly. So unlike me, who had always been stand-offish with my earlier dates.
It was around four in the morning when I decided to take a short nap and check out the bed in one of the luxurious rooms. I was fast asleep before we hit the docks and I slept right through till about seven in the morning when I woke with a start.
7.00 a.m.
I felt disoriented and didn’t know where I was for a few minutes and thought I should scream out for help. But then I saw Greek God sleeping in his clothes on a sofa close by and smiled. Then I gasped with fright. I was still on a ‘date’ and my morning breath and morning hair together was more frightening than hurricane Katrina. So I quietly got up and went to the toilet where I freshened up as best as I could. I decided the no makeup, wet-ponytail look would be much better than the grizzly, smeared-mascara one.
When I came out, Greek God had gone and I panicked a little. What if he realized I was a terrible date and had left me to fend for myself?
I walked out slowly to the deck and our personal butler told me to wait till he came out. Apparently he had gone to freshen up as well. It wasn’t like the movies where both parties woke up smelling like roses and looking like daisies. Real people needed to use the toilet early in the morning!
Greek God came out looking fresh as if he was prepared for this, with a new shirt and a day old stubble that made him even yummier than the night before.
He smiled and said, ‘Hey, you! Slept okay?’
‘Amazingly well for an unfamiliar place,’ I said running my hand through my hair. God, why didn’t I have nice hair, I thought. Then I remembered I had spent a fortune on my hair only a few months back and was pretty proud of it then. Why was I feeling so conscious now?
‘Ready for breakfast?’ he asked. I nodded in anticipation. ‘This way,’ he said.
Then he helped me get off the yacht and led me to the beach. I saw a mat laid out on the beach with a basket on the side as I got off.
‘What’s all this?’ I asked.
‘An authentic Portuguese breakfast,’ he replied.
And so I dug into the meal and kept praising his ingenuity for making a woman happy.
‘Oh, you have no idea how I can make a woman happy,’ he said, his eyes twinkling.
Just then I realized, damn, I’m not getting this for free. He wants ‘more’ from me than just scintillating conversation! Obviously my face had revealed my
He stayed interested through the evening and dinner, which was absolutely scrumptious with a spicy pesto-crab fussili that followed the pizza and a tiramisu to end the meal. I went on talking about my life and the places I had visited. I suppose the roles had reversed in a few hours. Instead of him wanting me to sit with him a little longer, I wanted to make the date go on.
I thought that he would drop me back since it was already midnight and we had finished an entire bottle of wine but Greek God just turned to me and said, ‘Come, we need to go to our next destination.’
12.45 a.m.
We were on a private yacht sailing down the Mapusa River. This was the best date ever! The yacht was a dream. It had rooms that would make the presidential suite in a hotel seem inadequate. And here we were, sitting on the deck with another bottle of wine and a personal butler while watching Goa bathed in moonlight. Greek God pointed out all the spots again as we passed through the Salim Ali Bird Sanctuary at Chorao Island, and the villages of Salvador Do Mundo and Brittona. The cruise also took us down the Mandovi River, past the bright night lamps of Panaji–Miramar on one side and the gorgeous Reis Magoa and Aguada Fort on the other. It was really magical.
Another bottle of wine followed and our conversation became sporadic as we just enjoyed each other’s company and the lovely night. I rested my head on his shoulders, surprised at myself for becoming this comfortable with a stranger so quickly. So unlike me, who had always been stand-offish with my earlier dates.
It was around four in the morning when I decided to take a short nap and check out the bed in one of the luxurious rooms. I was fast asleep before we hit the docks and I slept right through till about seven in the morning when I woke with a start.
7.00 a.m.
I felt disoriented and didn’t know where I was for a few minutes and thought I should scream out for help. But then I saw Greek God sleeping in his clothes on a sofa close by and smiled. Then I gasped with fright. I was still on a ‘date’ and my morning breath and morning hair together was more frightening than hurricane Katrina. So I quietly got up and went to the toilet where I freshened up as best as I could. I decided the no makeup, wet-ponytail look would be much better than the grizzly, smeared-mascara one.
When I came out, Greek God had gone and I panicked a little. What if he realized I was a terrible date and had left me to fend for myself?
I walked out slowly to the deck and our personal butler told me to wait till he came out. Apparently he had gone to freshen up as well. It wasn’t like the movies where both parties woke up smelling like roses and looking like daisies. Real people needed to use the toilet early in the morning!
Greek God came out looking fresh as if he was prepared for this, with a new shirt and a day old stubble that made him even yummier than the night before.
He smiled and said, ‘Hey, you! Slept okay?’
‘Amazingly well for an unfamiliar place,’ I said running my hand through my hair. God, why didn’t I have nice hair, I thought. Then I remembered I had spent a fortune on my hair only a few months back and was pretty proud of it then. Why was I feeling so conscious now?
‘Ready for breakfast?’ he asked. I nodded in anticipation. ‘This way,’ he said.
Then he helped me get off the yacht and led me to the beach. I saw a mat laid out on the beach with a basket on the side as I got off.
‘What’s all this?’ I asked.
‘An authentic Portuguese breakfast,’ he replied.
And so I dug into the meal and kept praising his ingenuity for making a woman happy.
‘Oh, you have no idea how I can make a woman happy,’ he said, his eyes twinkling.
Just then I realized, damn, I’m not getting this for free. He wants ‘more’ from me than just scintillating conversation! Obviously my face had revealed my
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