Bad Dates and Bad Dates (Part 1 of 3)

Posted on 10 Nov 2017 @ 4:33pm by Lieutenant JG Gideon Nicols PhD & Ensign Miraj Derani
Edited on on 19 Nov 2017 @ 12:24pm

2,193 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 15 - Emanation
Location: Earth - San Francisco, Culinary Institute
Timeline: MD 30, 1800 Hrs

[ON]

"I still have time to back out of this," Gideon Nicols mumbled to himself as he dried himself off from his shower. "In fact, I should just cancel, come up with an excuse, I really shouldn't be doing this." He certainly had doubts about this, it wasn't like him to just go on a blind date, but here he was, getting ready for one. Even though his gut told him to back out, he didn't, simply because he didn't want to be rude. For all he knew, this man that he would be soon meeting with could be someone special, and even if there were no connection, at least he would have gotten out for the evening. He would go in with no expectations, which in his mind was the best way to go. "Or he could be a serial killer," he added as he began to brush his teeth.

Fifteen minutes later - dressed simply in a pair of tan khakis, a cerulean blue t-shirt, and brown slip on shoes - he made his way to the transportation station. He was to meet his date at a culinary arts school to spend the evening learning various cooking techniques. He worked on starships, so typically the food he ate was replicated, but he considered this kind of a neat way to get to know each other. Ten minutes later he was walking in long strides toward the culinary school, and there he spotted the man standing about, already waiting. He slowed his pace a tad, he just needed a few more seconds to gather his thoughts.

After a few seconds stretched into almost a full minute, Gideon knew he couldn't hold off any longer and approached. "Hello," he said to the only Trill who was standing there. "I'm Gideon Nicols."

The trill smiled and held out a hand, "Amaran Naz." The trill was of a height with Gideon, if not the same, then shorter only by a shade. He was tanned, and his spots were dark as a leopards, running down cheekbones sharp enough to cut before disappearing under the v neck of his black t-shirt, before re-emerging from under the hem of tight black pants to run across his feet, clearly visible thanks to the thong sandals he wore. "Its a pleasure to meet you in the flesh. Jemima told me all about you."

"A pleasure as well," Gideon said as he took a hold of the offered hand, gave it a firm shake then let the large hand slip from his own. He gave Amaran Naz a once over, and Jemima wasn't kidding when she said the Trill was handsome. "All good I hope," he said, adding a small smile to that. On the flip side, Jemima had only given some basic information about the Trill, however, he wasn't going to say that.

"Nothing but glowing praise," Amaran assured him. "You know Jemima, she never says a good word when a bitchy one will do, but she had nothing but nice things to say about you. Shall we go in?"

Gideon was still unsure as to why he allowed Jemima to set this up for him, but so far things started out okay. It wasn't an awkward start so that helped. Gideon was also unsure if only nice things had been said, he could be a bit of an asshole when he wanted to be. However, for the most part, he was the quiet, unassuming type. He nodded to the man's question and doing the gentlemanly thing, he reached for the door and pulled it open, stepping aside to allow Amaran to step over the threshold first.

The Cookery School was a large room on the second floor, with a series of long hardwood-topped benches, featuring a small hob, an oven and grill and a sink, all facing front. They weren't the first to arrive and several of the benches already had couples at them. Naz steered him to one of the free benches, and handed Gideon one of the two aprons waiting there. "Have you ever done anything like this before? I cook all the time; love it, so I've been here several times. The teacher tonight is really good. Near East and North African dishes are a specialty."

Gideon took the offered apron and slipped it over his head and then took a hold of the apron strings and tied it around his waist. He shook his head to the question. "I haven't done anything like this before," he replied, "though in my defense starship duty doesn't tend to allow for such things." He looked to the Trill and smiled. "Well, since I am new to this, it's good to know I'm in good hands."

"Oh, the best." Naz grinned. He peeked under the tray spread with a red and white cloth. "Looks good."

"Good evening everyone," A woman in a bright yellow shalwar kemeez, heavily embroidered in orange and red, with a matching hijab walked into the room to the demonstration bench at the front. "I'm Samia Alamuddin, and I'll be your teacher tonight. We are going to make a selection of foods from the Eastern Mediterranean. We will be making, falafel, hummus and baba ghanoush, sarma and sashlik, and finally, a pistachio and date baklava. All of these things are much simpler to make than they sound, and all it requires of you is to get your hands dirty. I hope everyone is ready?"

There was a chorus of "Yes", from around the room, and Naz joined in, looking expectantly at Gideon.

The first thing that popped into Gideon's mind when he heard the menu was that he hoped that the woman was correct and that it all seemed easier to make than it sounded. He only knew a couple of the dishes but was certainly perplexed by the rest. When Samia asked if everyone was ready, he said 'yes' but his yes was certainly not as enthusiastic as the others. This woman seemed to be awfully popular and those around him, including the man standing next to him, were beaming. He had to admit this unnerved him just a little bit, he wasn't one for crowds and he certainly wasn't one to try to cook around others. I should have canceled, he thought to himself. At remembering Samia stating they would get their hands dirty, he began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing forearms full of colorful tattoos.

"Nice ink," Naz beamed, inspecting Gideon's forearms. "I'm very impressed. I always thought about getting a tattoo, but could never settle on just one design. How did you do it, laser burn? Magnetic chroma, or is it old fashioned ink and needle?"

Gideon smiled at the other man and said, "Thank you." His tattoos were apart of him, so a lot of times he didn't even think about the fact he had them. "Old fashioned ink and needle," he replied. "I suppose I couldn't figure out either what I wanted, so I went with the tattoo sleeves that incorporated the designs that most appealed to me, a lot of my tats are designed by my self." He briefly thought about the hours he spent at the tattoo parlor and how in the end it was all worth it. "I suppose it's my own way to throw off the shackles of being a Starfleet scientist and keeping my creativity intact."

"Old fashioned needle? That’s totally hardcore. I always looked at Magnetic Chroma, I like being able to change the colour, and it gives a much crisper finish than ink. Doesn't fade with age either." Naz paused, "Oh, she's starting, watch this."

Were tattoo needles considered hardcore? This was news to him; he just liked the old-fashioned technique. His gaze dropped down to his forearms and he scrutinized the ink that was showing. It had aged some, but the colors were still mostly vibrant and rich. To him, the aging of a tattoo meant something, it was meaningful, but he wasn't entirely sure if Naz got that. He also wondered if the age thing was a comment about his own age, he was, after all, older than the Trill who stood next to him. Also, thank you Captain Obvious, he mused to himself in reference to being told to watch as the presentation started. He could see why people loved this woman; she was bright, cheery and was a good teacher. He tried to follow along, but he only ended up furrowing his brow in confusion. "She seems to be very skilled," he whispered as he watched her knife skills.

"Its just practice," Naz whispered back as the teacher’s knife seemed to just stroke across a variety of vegetables, causing them to fall into neat fine slices. "I had a holiday job at a restaurant on Trill after I finished our equivalent of High School. Spent weeks chopping veg up. After a about a week of nothing but, you get that fast. Muscle memory. Nothing to it but practice." Naz picked up his own knife and grabbed the onion from the tray, whilst offering the aubergine to Gideon. The knife flashed, not quite as quick as the teachers, but well enough that it only took about thirty seconds for the onion to be finely sliced.

Gideon took a hold of the eggplant and looked over to watch as Naz started to cut into the onion. He wasn't entirely sure if the Trill was just trying to show off his skill, but Gideon had to admit he was impressed. He picked up his own knife in his left hand and attempted to cut into the tough skin of the dark purple fruit. The knife slipped and he almost lost his thumb because of the slippage. He grunted in frustration but kept at it. At this rate, it would take him all of his shoreleave just to cut up and dice an eggplant.

Naz came to his rescue, taking the knife off him. "Just like this," he ran the knife along the flesh, cutting a grid of squares into it then he flicked the whole skin inside out, and cut the now cubed aubergine off the skin. He passed the knife back. "You do the other one whilst I start on the meat." He pulled the bowl of chops towards him. "So what do you do for fun?"

"Alright," Gideon said as he took the other eggplant and tried to mimic what Naz had shown him. He was not keen on the idea the Trill took the knife out of his hand like he was a child, but he let it go. "I'm mostly into sports," he replied. "I watch and play. Though, it isn't all rough and tumble stuff, so I tend to try to sneak in something creative." With a tilt to his head, he indicated the woman who stood in front of the class. "This seems to be creative."

"I enjoy it for just those reasons," Naz said. "Of course, you have to know all the rules before you can learn which ones to break. What sports?" Naz was cutting the lamb into chunks.

"What don't I play?" Gideon replied, smiling. "Mostly it's earth sports, some of them older and they don't even exist anymore." He carefully diced up the eggplant and was pretty pleased that even though he was slow to do so, he was making headway. "Ever heard of a sport called baseball?"

"The stick and ball game?" Naz asked. "Of course. Can't live here for long without hearing about it. "

"Actually, the stick is called a bat," Gideon said, a bit of irritation creeping into his voice. A stick and ball game? He couldn't figure out if the other man just didn't know or just didn't care, but either way, it came off as demeaning and rude. He finished chopping up the eggplant and pushed it aside. "What about you, what do you do for fun?"

"To be honest, I'm usually too busy for games and the like. Occasionally, I cook," Naz said, "I like to go climbing, and various martial arts. I like the personal discipline it brings. You have to be completely focused, and centred, to really make it work. And I study philosophy, particularly holistic and harmonic theory. "

Gideon barely held back from rolling his eyes. This man obviously didn't know anything about sports and how you had to be focused, and determined, and have the ability but above all else, one had to be a team player and have each other's backs. Beyond the climbing and martial arts, the rest of it seemed rather boring in his opinion. Though, a lot of people found science boring, so he wasn't one to judge. "Harmonic theory?" He had assumed it had to do with music theory, but again he didn't want to make such assumptions.

To be continued…

[OFF]

--

Lieutenant JG Gideon Nicols, PhD
Chief Research Officer

Amaran Naz
Auteur, Critic, Foodies, Zen-Master, Life Coach, Guru, and GIANT Egotist
[NPC Derani]

RSS Feed