Jul. 12 at 4:08 PM
$CAVA I went to
$CAVA for a quick bowl, not to get seduced at the meat station. But there she was — 6’2”, built like she serves 120mph and ghosted Novak Djokovic. We both reached for the lamb. I said, “You goin’ lamb?” She said, “Obviously.” Eye contact was made. Meat was mutual.
Five minutes later, we’re flirting over toppings. She judged me for skipping hummus. I judged her for adding pickled onions. Sparks flew. She asked what I do — I lied and said “protein consulting.”
We ended up back at her place. She had a tennis ball basket in the living room and three open bottles of San Pellegrino. I don’t even remember finishing the bowl, but I do remember her saying, “Next time you’re bringing the tzatziki.”
And just like that, I went in for lunch and left with a pulled hamstring and an ego boost.
