"Like in the picture, the meal is best eaten with your hands, but you can use your cutlery also. The dishes you ordered are specialties from West Africa, the western part of Nigeria to be precise. Enjoy your meal and let us know if you need anything by pressing the bell to your left," the server explained before leaving.
The dishes were delicious. Although it was quite odd eating with bare hands, the couple adapted quickly and enjoyed their meal.
After exiting the restaurant, they strolled by on the sidewalks and stopped to take pictures underneath the streetlights.
"Yogurt, icecream, and milk. Maybe some vegetables for coleslaw and egg." I hardly ever cooked so stocking my fridge was pretty meaningless.
Quincy on the other hand bought everything.
"Green onions, leeks, garlic, 3lb tomato and red bell peppers, lean meat and chicken breast, mayo, bacon strips, bread, peanut butter, strawberry jam, naked green juice, and what else do I need?"
I stared at him in shock. You'd think he was going for a cooking competition. That or he was a chef.
On our way to the self-checkout station, I noticed a figure in the Organic section, and my face darkened immediately.
"Who's that?" Quincy asked above my head, probably noticing my change in emotions.
"A professor I used to work with. I'll tell you about it when we get home," I quickly replied while trying to stabilize my mood.
Quincy carried most of the groceries, I mean, he bought most of it anyway. Once we were done stocking up his refrigerator, we snuggled on the couch with Yoplait in our hands.
"That was Professor Hank. When I started my undergraduate research, he was my mentor." It felt comfortable talking to Quincy. Being able to smell him calmed me down without even realizing it.
"I helped him with few of his papers but never got credit for it. Having a lot of scientific reviews under your belt increases one's credibility in the science field. As an undergrad student then, the guidance of the mentor is still the most important, and grad schools were definitely on the lookout for that."
Recalling the evil look on Prof. Hanks face when he told me "get over it. You're not the first, neither will you be the last," made me feel goosebumps.
"It's all better now. My independent research continues in the Fall. I just don't like seeing that person. His face puts me in a bad mood," I complained in a childish way.
"Just look at me from now on. Only me," he pacified as he rest his chin on my head.
"So cheesy," I said between my huge smile.
We talked about his family, his upcoming trip, and lots more. The more we shared, the closer our relationship got.