Date Night
Dear Diary:
My husband and I were on the C. It was a weeknight, long past rush hour. There were only four other passengers on the car.
We sat in the middle. At the end of the bench, a man was leaning against the railing. I barely glanced at him as my husband and I chatted and scrolled on our phones for a few stops.
Suddenly, out of the blue, the man at the end of the bench leaned toward my husband and extended a slightly opened package.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Do you want to try?”
“Best dates in the world,” he continued. “The best. From Africa. From Algeria.”
“Oh!” my husband said, reaching over and pulling one off the stalk. “Yes, they look good.”
He popped the date into his mouth.
I was confused by the casual familiarity between my husband and this man but did not want be rude. So I took a date too. It was sticky and sweet but not overwhelmingly so, as some dates can be.
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