Logs:Hot(pot) Date

Hot(pot) Date
Dramatis Personae Harm, Naomi
In Absentia	2023-03-24 'I keep second-guessing whether I'm being manipulative or weird just telling you how I feel.
Location <NYC> Hot Pot Restaurant - Flushing - Queens
Yes, it's actually named "Hot Pot Restaurant", and it's the kind of place hipster foodies describe with words like "authentic" and "hidden gem", though it's not very well hidden at all, except in that it might well be lost among the dozen other hotpot restaurants ringing the bustling markets of downtown Flushing. It's spacious and clean and trying half-heartedly to not look excessively Chinese, but the attempt to disguise auspicious decorations has left it kind of quirky and surreal. Fake gold ingots and three-legged toad statuettes lurk in the planters, the framed pastoral prints strike a confusing contrast with glossy cartoon rabbit wall clings, and a tableau of animal figurines and small toys keep Guan Yin company in the tiny shrine behind the main counter. All of the tables here are booths, the translucent white screens separating them printed with hotpot-themed word clouds (with auspicious words scattered throughout). The food is, in fairness to hipster foodies, extremely good. The staff had ushered the two teens just a little while and are probably regretting it sorely now, to judge by how the servers keep subtly trying to pawn their table off onto one other. It doesn't seem likely that they're too worried about Harm, who is actually dressed down, compared to the non-date that inspired this actual-date. They wearing a loosely knitted rainbow sweater over a black mandarin collar shirt and wide-legged blue jeans, a black shoulder bag hooked on one side of their chair back and a canvas tote screen printed with an eighth note symbol (a gibbous earth in place of its head) captioned "Earthsong Collective" on the other side. "I'm sorry, maybe this was a bad idea," they say, hesitantly, and then much more hastily, "Not the date! I think that's a great idea! Just, maybe I should have picked somewhere less um..." They sip at their tea and glance at the two servers having a whispered argument over by the counter. "...bigoted." It’s far more likely that the servers are gossiping about the Black girl sitting across from Harm in the booth, and the helm of shiny black snake scales on her face. Naomi is studying the menu with an intense focus that’s not all about the food. Frowns at the prices, at the unfamiliar burner in the centre of the table, pulling her forest-green cardigan closer around her torso as she does so. Until now the cardigan had been tied loose around her waist over her black jeans and underneath the hem of her floral print black top. It's warmer in here among the soup than it is outside -- so probably the cardigan is to protect from even more stares at the shoulder cutouts of her top, where polished black scales peek out along with warm brown skin. She's worrying at her lip when she looks back at Harm, glances over at the servers. "I'm sorry," she says, "I should have -- warned you? That this kind of thing happens, sometimes. I -- do you want to leave I don't really know where else we could go around here..." Naomi sips at her tea, looks down at the menu again. "...Maybe they're just working up their nerve?" "I should have thought of it," Harm says. "It's not like I haven't seen how people look at you, but I figured...they're being paid to serve people, not to like how they look. I think you look amazing." They blush deeply. "If they don't get their act together soon I'm going over there, but more importantly, do you want to leave?" They lean forward onto the table. "Like, even if they decide to serve you, I don't want it to be uncomfortable or stressful or just insulting to you." Naomi flushes too, as if this compliment is new information and not a reassurance. "... Everywhere is uncomfortable. And stressful. And somewhere else would just be new stress, you know?" She's speaking slower than is usual for her, each word a little more carefully picked. "And it smells real good and this is something you really like, right? I do want to try it." Her eyes are sliding across to a booth she can see, staring at the bubbling soup pots. Back over to the huddled waiters, then quickly away. Breathes in, then out. "Maybe if we offer to pay up front?" This comes even quieter, Naomi trying and failing to hide her embarrassment. "I do really like this, but..." Harm chews on their lower lip. "We could get takeout. There's good ramen places around here, too. Hot pot can wait. Or maybe," they brighten, "we could do it ourselves. I bet my grandparents would send me a hot pot setup if I asked." But even as they're brainstorming alternatives to waiting for the staff to actually wait on them, one of them finally peels off to come bring them a pot of tea, with a bow and profuse apologies for the delay, promising someone will be by to take their order soon before conspicuously hurrying off again. Harm sighs and raises their eyebrows at Naomi. "I don't think we'll need to pay up front. I think they're just going to be weird and awkward about it." Naomi’s eyes have gone wide — “You have this at home?” She manages to get this out before the server finally arrives, snaps her mouth shut and just mumbles “thanks” to the delivery of a new pot. “I can deal with weird and awkward. I’m weird and awkward,” she points out, “I’m the one that delayed this, right? Which,” she adds, with a grimace, “I’m really glad you still wanted to go.” "Oh! Oh no, not like this!" Harm says hastily after the server departs. "It's more like, a hot plate with a pot. But at Earthsong we do hot pot over the cooking fires, which is even cooler than this." They refill their teacup, and then Naomi's. "I don't mind the delay, I'm just glad you still wanted to go! I was kind of worried you'd changed your mind, or that you hadn't but might if I pressured you about it. Which, like, I could have just asked..." They seem to notice the nervous chattery quality of their own words and trail off, blushing again. "Well, I think you're weird and awkward in a cute way. Let's pick out our ingredients so they don't have to hang around being less cutely weird and awkward." Naomi’s eyes widen. “Woah, like in a cauldron?” She’s looking across, again, at the hotpots, this time at the actual soup bubbling inside. “You could make so much that’s got to be so fun. Oh I can--" She half reaches for the teapot, dropping her hand when Harm finishes pouring for her with a faint flush, that only grows darker with Harm's incomplete sentence and very complete compliment. "I ain't changed my mind ever, I just got all up in my head about, the coming out thing, and the other thing, an' I know you said already you wanted to but that seemed way too good to be true so...." Naomi dips her head, the lamination of the menu reflecting her scales. "One time it was rehearsal though, that ain't my fault." She wrinkles her nose down at the menu, now that it's in her sights. "I got like no clue what half of this even is I think you could just choose I bet it will be great." "Actually, yes!" Harm beams with pride and fond recollection. "They get a nice smokey flavor, too." They listen, nodding slowly at intervals. "Stressing about coming out isn't your fault, either, and maybe I shouldn't be glad you did but I am a little. And I definitely don't blame you second-guessing yourself. Or me! The whole world is out there putting you down. Out...here." They flick a hard glance at a server approaching another table. "I keep second-guessing whether I'm being manipulative or weird just telling you how I feel." They blush, just a faint flush of pink this time. "But hot pot I don't have to second guess." They lean a little farther across the table. "The great thing about this is you can try out the new stuff a little at a time and if you don't like it, we leave the rest of it out!" "I don't think you got to worry 'bout manipulating me," Naomi says, a small hint of amusement in her tone. "...'less this was all some reverse psychology to get me to figure out I'm..." Her eyes dip down to her tea, nose scrunching, "...some kinda queer? person? Which, if it was, I ain't mad about it. And I'm not," this sentence sounding Very Certain, "second-guessing going out with you. Today. Maybe... more days? If you wanted? There's a youth night at Evolve's club next week?" She looks up, flushing again, lowering her voice when she accidentally makes eyecontact with a server, who then very slowly begins to make their way back to the teenager's table. "No pressure, I just thought... well, dates could be like that too. Try new stuff together, and see what is fun, for us." Harm's eyes go wide. "Oh no! No I'm not -- reverse psycholog...ing. I am glad you realized you're queer, though." They lean forward, lowering their voice earnestly, "I was falling behind on the recruiting quota." Their eyes go yet wider, but this time with obvious joy. "I would love to go! I haven't been to many clubs but I love dancing. And..." Blushing again, "...I'm so down to see what's fun for us."