Today it was far less busy and Perry and I were able to get served right away.
“I think you can tell a lot about a person by their ice cream order,” I told him as we meandered our way back toward the park.
“Oh? What does your chocolate ice cream say about you?”
“That I’m easy to please.” I liked to think I was an easygoing guy, that nothing much bothered me. That I didn’t need anything elaborate to be happy and could find myself quite content with simple pleasures.
“Maybe it says that you’re afraid to take risks,” Perry countered. “That you stick to safe choices rather than branching out and risking disappointment.”
“Ouch.” I laughed, not quite sure that he was wrong.
“Now tell me what my pistachio ice cream says about me.”
He popped a spoonful in his mouth, and I had to look away before I gave myself a hard-on by staring at the way his lips caressed the spoon.
“It says that you’re colorblind.”
Perry laughed and gently knocked his elbow into mine. “Be serious.”
“It says that you don’t indulge often, but when you do, you like to go for the most luxurious option. You like to spoil yourself.”
“Or maybe it says that I like having nuts in my mouth.”
“Well, it certainly didn’t warn me about your sense of humor.” I choked back a laugh, thankful that I hadn’t had a mouthful when he said that.
“If they had no chocolate ice cream,” Perry went on to say, “what flavor would you choose? And you can’t choose a basic flavor. No chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla ice cream exists.”
I scooped up a bite of ice cream and shoved it in my mouth to give myself time to think of a response.
“Cotton candy.”
“Really?”
“Surprised?”
“You just seem more like a cookies and cream or a butter pecan type of guy.”
“And what qualities make up a butter pecan ice cream guy?” This was easily the strangest and most fun conversation I’d had in a long time. Maybe ever. Perry was easy to talk to. It was like we’d known each other for years instead of days. The longer I was around him, the less like a first date this felt. It gave me hope that we’d be able to pull off this whole fake boyfriend thing.
We stopped in the park and sat down on a bench that was perched on the top of a small hill. Perry stirred his ice cream around in the little bowl until it was smooth, resembling soft serve.
“Slightly bougie but still relatable,” he said eventually.
“Slightly bougie? I’m not at all bougie.”
“Your car begs to differ.”
“The sheer amount of animal hair inside it disagrees with you.”
“You’re a vet. I’d be worried if you weren’t covered in pet hair all the time.”
“What if I worked with birds or reptiles exclusively?”
“Do you get many different animals at your practice?” Perry asked.
“Mostly the usual suspects. Cats, dogs, the occasional bird. Bearded dragons are becoming more popular, but they’re really not my specialty so unless it’s something easy, I tend to refer them to a colleague of mine who has more reptile experience.”
“So, cats, dogs, birds, pigs.”
