We had dinner at "On the Border" in Dublin, California today. We were celebrating the Sixty Plus'th birthday of my uncle who is visiting from India with my Aunt and their son. This was their first trip to America. The idea was to ease them into American food. What better food to start than Mexican. It is spicier and more flavorful than most other American food. That makes it similar to Indian food. It was a safer bet.
We must have been 80 percent done with the mean when I popped the question. I was not as nervous as I should have been. Even though I knew that my Aunt is a complainer and among all the 4 siblings my dad has, she is known for being tough to please. So I asked a safe question: "Which dish did you like the most?"
She had shared a chicken fajita with uncle, shared a chicken enchilada with her son, and I had shared some of my cheese enchilada with her. We also had chips, salsa and freshly made guacamole. There had got to be something that she liked. It was a safe question like, "You won't have tea, will you?"
Then came the dreaded response: "Nothing really" ... along with the famous why-are-you-doing-this-to-me headshake. We all had a great laugh ... and made several jokes about it. I jokingly laid the blame on mom and dad, and said they ordered the wrong dish for her. Her son said, it didn't matter what restaurant or dish it was, she would have the same response.
Then we came back home. Poor thing, my aunt. She said what she said, but then her conscience was hurting her. At home she thanked me for the dinner, and apologized for being rude. I knew she was feeling bad. I told her its OK; I told her that I don't even hear negative comments. I told her about the filter I have developed as a performing musician. You learn to not hear criticism, however well it means.
We must have been 80 percent done with the mean when I popped the question. I was not as nervous as I should have been. Even though I knew that my Aunt is a complainer and among all the 4 siblings my dad has, she is known for being tough to please. So I asked a safe question: "Which dish did you like the most?"
She had shared a chicken fajita with uncle, shared a chicken enchilada with her son, and I had shared some of my cheese enchilada with her. We also had chips, salsa and freshly made guacamole. There had got to be something that she liked. It was a safe question like, "You won't have tea, will you?"
Then came the dreaded response: "Nothing really" ... along with the famous why-are-you-doing-this-to-me headshake. We all had a great laugh ... and made several jokes about it. I jokingly laid the blame on mom and dad, and said they ordered the wrong dish for her. Her son said, it didn't matter what restaurant or dish it was, she would have the same response.
Then we came back home. Poor thing, my aunt. She said what she said, but then her conscience was hurting her. At home she thanked me for the dinner, and apologized for being rude. I knew she was feeling bad. I told her its OK; I told her that I don't even hear negative comments. I told her about the filter I have developed as a performing musician. You learn to not hear criticism, however well it means.
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