What is happening to us, he asked.
What is? She paused.
We don’t get lost any more when we go out.
No, we consult. We save time, she quipped.
Yes, we save time. We shred romance by looking at GPS.
Ah, stop being so old-world.
She was ready for a spoil.
Not old-world. Just naive.
They looked at each other.
It had just turned 8. The lights at the restaurant has dimmed.
Can you keep your phone away for this evening? His tone was almost pleading.
Can you, she countered?
Yes, I can and I have. He put his hands up in the air.
He looked at her entreatingly, his fists clenched, almost.
Do it, please.
Do any thing but look at your phone.
Look at me.
Better still, look at the waiter who looks like Randeep Hooda.
Roll your eyes at the maitre’d.
Play with your curls and your silver pendant.
Go, flirt with the 50-year-old playing the piano.
Crib about the food so much that the rotund Chef himself is forced to appear.
Close your eyes when you eat the dessert – so that sweet dreams are really sweet.
Play footsie with me.
Whatever you do, don’t look at your phone.
While you are with me.