Il Cantinori curse?
The last time I went to Il Cantinori was last summer. the food was great and the atmosphere was fun and upbeat. but there was one thing missing, Luis (he and I were on our break durign that time) i remember sitting with my relatives from out of town sad that we weren't together.We decided to go there this past Friday night. It was my idea. I could finally get the memory of last year out of my head and we could make new fun memories.
After our evening ended, I wondered- could that place be cursed for us?
I had been looking forward to last Friday night for months.. maybe that was the first problem. Isn't it the rule that when you anticipate something to be wonderful, it turns out awful?
It was my last day of summer classes, the semester from hell was over, and we were going out to celebrate. I got all decked out, remembering what it was like being human and not lounging in sweats all weekend long studying pharmacology.
After my last final was over, I got my hair cut and colored, got a brazilian wax and my eyebrows threaded. I felt like a new woman.
I rush to get to Il Cantinori, running in my stilettos, stealing a cab from a couple waiting down the block, getting cursed out in the process. I loved it, it felt great to have long awaited plans. In typical Kim-fashion I'm ten minutes late.. Luis, however, is no where to be seen. I sit there sipping a vodka cran.. minutes pass by, the waiters are all staring at me, i try to think about what a great night it's going to be... i play with my phone, read my old text messages, do anything to entertain myself, try to feel like less of a loser, curse myself for not wearing a sweater over my tube top so the waiters would stop staring at me wondering what my deal was.. my phone rings.. Luis asking whether he went too far, he's on 6th ave.
what do you mean did you go too far? which way are you walking?
i got dropped off on the west side highway, the place is in the west village, right?
what? it's in the village, not exactly the west village. keep walking east.
which way is east?
(oh my god i hate that you are from jersey. why can't you know where anything is)
i'll be there in 5 minutes (hangs up)
i down the first drink, order another. it's suprisingly strong and it probably wasn't good that i was dehydrated to begin with.
finally a sweaty Luis shows up looking irritated.
i citysearched it and it said it's in the west village.
well, it's not. why didn't you just take a cab to university?
who goes on citysearch anway
he sits down looking disgusted. he gives me a perfunctory kiss on my cheek.
i had a horrible day. just horrible.
oh no, what happened.
it's too long to explain. just too long. just crazy.
i hate that he does this. though on the other hand, i could care less about the spreadsheet that he had been working on or whatever else that has him so stressed out. our interests couldn't be more different and when i talk about medicine or dying patients he recoils in disgust and asks me not to talk about it.
so what am i to do? i shrug and talk about my day. my great perfect day so far. except he ruins it. he doesn't give me one compliment on how i look, tells me my hair that i spent 300 dollars on doesn't look any different from how it looked yesterday. the hours i spent getting ready, destroying my apt in the process, seems to be a complete waste right now.
the night continues to go from horrible to unbearable.. we finally agree on 2 appetizers to share. they're not good, but not horrible either. he, however, practically spits out his quail.
this tastes like kfc.
i think to myself, why can't he be more sophisticated, he doesn't even have good tastes, he thinks vinny's pizzeria in bayonne, nj is the best "restaurant" he's ever eaten at.
the waiter brings over the wine list.
Dear Lord he mutters under his breath.
I guess I'm not worth the price, huh?
Oh stop, dont do that.
fuck you.
let's have a good time.
thanks for the flowers by the way
what flowers
exactly
oh my god i was supossed to get you flowers now
would it kill you to get me five dollar flowers from the deli
i was running late. i get you flowers all the time
are you fucking kidding me. i got flowers from you twice in 2 years! you're such a fucking asshole.
you know what nothing makes you happy.
right
he orders the wine. i wonder how much the cheapest one on the menu was exactly, because i'm certain that is what he ordered. i wonder why he can't splurge once in a while and enjoy it.
the main courses arrive and they are totally horrible. i feel like this is a nightmare and the waiters are playing a joke on us. we finally leave and start yelling at each other outside the restaurant.
we have become that couple. people on the street stare at in shock.
i don't remember how the screaming match went exactly. all i remember was never in my life did i want to punch him as much as i had in that instance. (i refrained in case you were wondering)
finally he stopped me and told me i was a good woman and that he'd never find anyone like me and to stop fighting him, to stop being his enemy.
i started sobbing.
i didn't want to fight. i didn't want to add that to my list of problems. i wanted to have a good time with him.
my mind went blank and i had no idea what in the world we were doing.
at that moment nothing mattered anymore. i didn't care about how anythign was supossed to be or what was supossed to happen.
all i wanted to do was go home.
and never go back to Il Cantinori again.
posted by Anonymous @ 8:42 AM
2 Comments:
It's just like that episode of SATC....
Oh god, I can't believe I'm friends with you. Google it.
Post a Comment
<< Home