Late for Lunch

“Great. Now I’m going to be later than planned.” His only companion in the elevator muttered to herself.

Joshua did not comment. It wasn’t like she was talking to him; it was not his business if she was late. They both were, truthfully. He was indifferent about his appointment, however, so he was not too concerned about the delay. Of course, he would have preferred to make a good impression and show good manners, but the power outage was unexpected. Now, he’s stuck in the elevator one floor down from the expensive restaurant he was supposed to have lunch in. Never mind that he was already ten minutes late before the actual entrapment.

Maintenance had informed them earlier that a child was panicking in the other elevator. Neither of them made complaints. Aside from that one comment about being later than planned, the woman on the other corner of the steel box did not seem bothered about the delay. He wasn’t really sure if her earlier statement was because of annoyance or gratefulness for the situation.

The woman was however muttering to herself while she typed on her phone. He did not think she was panicking as he assumed she was more aggravated with her conversation on the phone than being trapped. He heard the words ‘stupid, irritating, incompetent’ a few times. Clearly, she was annoyed and extremely frustrated with the person she was texting with.

He was not someone who sticks his nose in a person’s business, but he thought good manners dictate he at least ask the person he was with at the moment if she was okay.

She nodded once without looking up from her phone.

He shrugged. Well, at least she says she’s okay. Maybe she’s just trying to quickly dismiss a nosy stranger.

Josh took his phone out of his slacks pocket, thinking to pass his time reading the study he should’ve read days ago had he not been too busy. It was after all better than running over scenarios he expected to happen when he arrives at the restaurant. He did not know much of the person he was meeting with, but he assumed that growing up under Dr. Song’s guidance would make someone be a stickler of being on time. There is a considerable possibility that he will meet an annoyed lunch partner. He may be indifferent to this meeting, but he at least wanted a good meal experience, especially if it’s going to be as expensive as the one he was supposed to be already having.

He was not, however, going to text Dr. Song to pass along the message that he was running late. The older man was having a working lunch as usual and didn’t know that Josh left only 10 minutes before the 11 o’clock reservation. Nope, he was not up for a lecture on the importance of time and good manners. There was no text from Dr. Song asking about the delay, so he probably did not know that Josh was late. 

“How can a father be so interfering in this day and age?” The woman was not muttering anymore, but he didn’t take his eyes off his screen, assuming he was not the one being talked to.

“I mean, it’s the 21st century. Women had stayed single for longer than 40, 50 years in the last century. I’m not even 30 yet, but can you believe he’s insisting I meet a man and settle down already?” She was right, of course; but what does he know about her father, anyway? From his experience with parents, they believe everything they do is for their offspring no matter if said offspring was not happy about it or that said child is a mature adult capable of deciding for his/herself.

“Hey, are you listening? Talk to me; I’m going to go crazy being stuck here.”

He looked up from the study he was trying to read and realized she was indeed talking to him. She was leaning back against the wall, facing him with her arms crossed in front of her. Under the dim emergency light, she looked more exasperated than irritated or angry.

“I mean, it’s embarrassing enough that I’m still staying with him at my age and have to ask for permission to stay out late, but he now insists I get married this early in my life! Just because it was a norm in his time doesn’t mean it is now. And he claims that the secret for his success is his ability to adapt to time.” She rolled her eyes.

He sighed subtly, re-pocketed his phone, and faced her as well. This is turning out to be one of those times a stranger shares his/her problems with him out of nowhere. It was his silent nature, Dr. Song concluded; people notice that Josh is more perceptive than most, so they feel good unloading their sentiments to him. This was however problematic for him because despite being a good listener, he never knew what to say to those people after everything.

He leaned back against the wall, the coolness of the steel seeping through his shirt. “Are you sure you want to talk to a stranger about this?”

She waved a hand. “This is perfect, actually. You’re a stranger. You probably won’t tell me he only wants what is best for me. You won’t even advise me because you barely know me. I’m tired of people putting their five cents in my business just because they think it’s best for me. Besides, it’s not like I’m telling you my name or address.”

True; but really, TMI. Also, she was definitely wrong about the ‘thinking her father wants the best for her’ part. Not that he had an opinion about her marrying early.

He shrugged his right shoulder, indicating for her to go on; assuming she understands that’s what the shoulder movement meant.

“I’m actually supposed to be on a ‘blind date’.” She rolled her eyes at the term. “I was trying to leave a bad impression by being late for at least 10 minutes but it’s- Gosh, I’m past rude minutes late already.”

“Rude minutes?”

“I can excuse 10 minutes for the traffic. Arriving 15 or more minutes late without informing the person you’re supposed to meet of the delay is plain rude.”

Huh. It looks like he’s also rude minutes late, as it was already past 11:15 last time he checked. “You said you were trying to leave a bad impression.”

“Bad impression, not rude impression. Anyway, I’m supposed to be meeting my father’s colleague. Appa’s been bugging me to meet him since the beginning of the year, and we’ve both had enough of having this topic repeatedly. Apparently, this man is great and promising. Appa predicts a bright future for this junior of his. According to him, I’m not likely to find another man of this caliber.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“If only he sees the kind of successful men I have to deal with every day, he’d want me to find a boring man who didn’t care about climbing the social ladder. Besides, if this colleague of his is so great and promising, why doesn’t he meet women on his own? Why does Appa insist on me being the sacrificial vir- lamb for this man who probably isn’t interested in dating?”

She looked at him like he held the answer to her predicament. He had a niggling feeling he may or may not have that answer.

He cleared his throat. “First of all, why don’t you tell him you’re running late if you’re concerned about being rude?”

“I didn’t want to meet him, why would I want to have his number? Also, that was not a ‘first of all’.”

“True, but if you really didn’t want to meet your father’s great and promising colleague, you could’ve just not agreed to this blind date in the first place. As you said, it’s the 21st century; most people say you could do whatever you wanted to do these days.” He shrugged again; his opinion about that philosophy is extensive.

“Didn’t I tell you Appa and I are both fed up having this talk about my ticking biological clock? How he thinks this man, who’s now probably thinking I’m the worst kind of lunch date, is the answer to my rapidly depleting egg cells?” She rolled her eyes, again.

“He is determined. And he has the guts to use guilt and love against me, too. He’s getting old, according to him. Who will I call my family if he were to die without me getting married? How will he pass on peacefully if he’s still worried about my safety, security and singlehood? As if I’m not old and capable enough to take care of myself. Besides, he’s too health-conscious that he’ll probably outlive me.”

If she had this man’s number, she could’ve just told him herself that she wasn’t interested. No self-respecting man will insist on meeting a woman who is clearly uninterested and thinks she’s a sacrificial lamb. He told her exactly that.

“Gosh, why didn’t I think of that?”

He only shrugged, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“Why do you keep on shrugging, anyway?”

He shrugged again. “I’m really not a very talkative person.”

She raised a brow at this. “So?”

“A shrug tells a lot, I guess.”

She rolled her eyes in good humor. At least he thought it was in good humor.

“You roll your eyes a lot,” he pointed out.

It was her time to shrug. “It tells a thousand things, my eye rolls. But touché.”

They relapsed into a silence that quickly turned awkward.

“Well, this is awkward.”

He shifted his gaze from the spot he’d been staring at on her left shoulder to look her in the eyes. He can barely recognize the exact color of her irises under the light, but he was guessing they’re brown.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“You were the one saying something about not telling your name or address.”

“Did I ask for your address or name?”

“You also raise your brow too much, by the way; but what do you want to know?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Besides being stuck in an elevator in the middle of a power outage I should’ve known about?”

There were those eyes again. “Yes, and talking to me, or me talking to you because you’re not talkative. What are you doing in the building? Business? Work? Lunch?”

“Lunch.”

“Ah, we’re going to the same place, then.”

He only nodded.

“Business lunch? Date lunch? Alone lunch?”

“Had I been on time, it would have been an alone lunch I’m guessing.”

It was the eyebrow this time. He only shrugged.

“Who are you mee- Oh, it’s back already.” She blinked up at the bright lights, straightening. “Well, it’s been a lovely 10-minute talk.”

He straightened. He was correct that she has brown irises and that her eye shape was distinctly Asian. She was in a sundress, but it doesn’t seem like it was a special effort for this date. Judging from the black blazer slung on her forearm, she seems like the type to wear dresses most of the time, including work.

It was a relief that his version of work attire is just as acceptable in the restaurant they’re going to, courtesy of his own upbringing.

Unlike him, she was no longer paying attention to her companion. She was rapidly tapping on her phone again, her brows furrowed.

“I hope that’s not your father you’re arguing with via text.”

“No, he’s too busy to text. It’s work. They knew I’m eating out for lunch, but they kept texting me as if I wouldn’t be back in an hour.” She replied distractedly.

“I doubt you’d be back in an hour now that you’re-“

“Hello. Sorry for the delay. We had a hard time letting out the people from the other elevator. But it looks like yours is good to go now that the power is back. We’re moving you to the floor above.”

Both of them looked up at the led light indicating the 4th floor.

“That’s okay. We’re going to the 5th floor, anyway.” She dropped her phone in her bag.

Moments later, the elevator started to move up.

“I know I said I’m not telling you my name, but there’s no way you’d know whether it’s my actual name, anyway. I’m Anna.” She offered her hand.

“Joshua.”

Her handshake was firm; it was a handshake of someone accustomed to showing she meant business in just a greeting.

It was a good thing he didn’t stress about the kind of scenario he’ll face when he finally arrives for lunch. He was honestly not sure anymore what to expect in this meeting; he wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing.

The elevator opened.