If you have been following my blog, then you will remember that Type Geek had been ravaged by the flu late last week. It came on Wednesday night as a slight body ache and throat issue, progressing through his flight to Ohio on Thursday and awakening him Friday morning with every text-book sign of the flew, minus vomiting, thank god. He had a huge client meeting which he was presenting at, so his team helped take up the slack and preserve him for the most important element. Type Geek sailed through it with the help of a drugstore’s worth of medicine at his disposal. His flight home Friday night was fraught with delays and his body felt like he was hit by a bus, so we canceled our original plans for some canoodling after my shift was done Friday night.
Why am I giving you so much detail on his illness? Only to make a point that my magic soup truly kicks ass. Type Geek woke up late on Saturday and I quickly realized, he is NOT the type of guy to say, “I’m sick and would love to have someone come take care of me.” He thinks that the “grossness” of being sick is not something someone would want to be exposed to. Does he not remember that women bleed every month? I think I can handle hacking, sneezing, swollen eyes, fever and body sweats… women have to be able to deal with certain amounts of bodily “grossness” or they would never be mothers. It is almost as if it is a built-in species survival thing.
So, I got sick of hearing about how he was ok and just laying in bed, when I knew that regardless of how he felt about being too gross for others consumption, a good meal and some company always makes me feel a bit better when I am sick. I had some work on Saturday night but texted him and told him that I had decided that he no longer had a choice, that I was coming over later in the evening to make him garlic soup and exorcise his body ails. He responded with an emoticon filled text of happy mouths and thanks. He wanted me to come over, but didn’t feel right asking. Geez, why so much pride when sick?!
I got over later than I would have liked and had planned to take a taxi home that evening because I wanted him to rest up after eating and get better. I immediately started cooking and with only a few minor glitches , such as an oven that suddenly started pouring smoke and filled the entire apartment, forcing an already sick man out to the back deck for air. I made a decision to stay in the kitchen and continue to cook and battle through the smoke (with exhaust fan at high power, all windows open, and a couple oscillating fans added for good measure) since I didn’t want us eating at 2 am. 8 bulbs of pan roasted garlic later… some secret spices (sorry I chose not to post the recipe here as it’s going to be posted by someone somewhere else) , a bunch of kale and some poached eggs and we were sitting across from each other with steaming bowls of soupy goodness.
I love how much he loves my food. I know that I am great in a kitchen, but it still feels awesome to have someone verbalize their appreciation for it. Within ten minutes of eating the soup his coughing started to subside, we laid on the couch for a bit and I massaged his head since he was dealing with a 3 day old congestion headache and then we watched a little TV. Turns out he likes himself some trashy reality TV, which made me laugh. Jersey Shore, really?! Douche Bags with bad hair, bad tans and even worse accents. I guess we all crane our necks at the bad accidents on the highway, I shouldn’t be surprised that we do so on TV.
I didn’t assume I would be staying. He was sick. He made a comment that we should get ready for bed and got up and went to brush his teeth. I didn’t want him to feel like I always need to stay over and I wanted to make sure he got some rest so he could get better, so I knocked on the bathroom door and asked him if he would prefer that I take a taxi home as I didn’t want to disturb his rest. He looked surprised that I would want to leave and said that if anything, he would keep me awake with his coughing. He wanted me to stay, if I wanted to. So, I stayed. He did in fact cough a few times but was asleep by 2:30 and didn’t cough again through the night. In the morning he awoke feeling almost like normal, eyebrow raised at my soup and voodoo from the night before.
I made us breakfast, of course, poached eggs over roasted kale, garlic, potatoes and tomatoes. A side of fresh papaya and cantaloupe tossed with ginger yogurt and mint. Come 11 am, he hadn’t coughed once, other than from inhaling a Habanero the wrong way. I needed to jump in the shower and get back to my dog so on my way out of the kitchen I snuggled up to him and said, ” you know, I don’t think you are sick anymore”. He replied that it was scary that my soup could have such an effect so quickly, but that yes, he felt pretty much normal. So, I grabbed him and kissed him and told him I would be naked and very lonely in the shower.
A few minutes later he joined me… almost sex in the shower is hot. Sex in the shower is hot too and had we been able to get better footing, we probably would have had sex in the shower but I kept slipping. We made out for about twenty minutes before I made the executive decision to drag us back into the bedroom and subject myself to a coating of cat hair on my damp skin. Changing sheets or fucking right then? Hmm, I say fucking, right then and there, cat hair be damned. It was an EXCELLENT start to a Sunday. After wards we both rinsed off in the shower again and we went about our days.
So, Type Geek, what can I say about him? I like him. He is a genuinely kind individual with a occassional wicked sense of humor. Could I develop deeper feelings for him eventually? I am not sure. Don’t get me wrong, I care about him, of course, but I can’t exactly put my finger on it. What is it that makes us connect to one person and not to another? Where is the voodoo there?