Well That Went Surprisingly Well
Nobody was set on fire or was force-fed. After much anticipation and worrying, Saturday's dinner passed without incident or intimidation.
After deciding that a quiet Italian restaurant was neutral ground, Purple Turban and I met two hours before the meeting. We weren't particularly excited about the meeting; we were just worried that either of us would be very late (knowing how that is a trait we share) and how that is not a good thing especially when meeting with one's parents for the first time. So around 15 minutes before the dinner, he and I went to the restaurant, got a table and waited. Maybe it was the lights or maybe it was because the servers decided to turn off the air conditioner in the place that we were sweating like pigs. It felt so weird waiting since a) neither of us arrives 15 minutes before a meeting and b) we were the only ones inside the restaurant.
When the clock struck seven, the door creaked as it swung open to welcome another couple that was to have dinner. Hearts beating fast and palms sweaty, we looked at the couple who entered: it was M and R, college friends I haven't seen in years. With a shaky smile and awkward hello, I introduced Purple Turban to said friends and resumed being restless and nervous.
A few minutes into the conversation that was meant to pass time by, I saw my parents standing by the doorway, looking for me. Bracing myself for basically anything, I stood up and waved at them.
The first part of dinner was surprisingly normal and...easy. Nothing felt stranger than my father and Purple Turban talking easily as if they were just introduced by a common friend. While my father, the talker that he is, rambled and asked on as Purple Turban politely nodded and interjected whenever he could, my mother took pictures. Using her camera phone. While my father and Purple Turban's conversation veered to the astoundingly boring Swedish football team, I downed more wine. This cannot be possible; "normal" is hardly the word I thought of when I was thinking of this dinner. And then I got my wish.
The weird turn started with something so, so simple.
Paquito: You should join me and my friend when we go visit a pineapple plantation in Tagaytay. Have you been there?
Purple Turban: Yes, I've been there; my friend has a house in Tagaytay. I'd like to join your trip, though. I've never been to a pineapple plantation. Pineapples, they grow on trees?
Paquito: NO! You really have to come with me.
A few minutes after discovering that there were no such things as "pineapple trees", Purple Turban shared that he ate a spoonful of bagoong without knowing what it was. How the conversation got here, I have no idea. Anyway, it was here when my father started to lecture on the fine art of bagoong saltiness as determined by color.
I decided that this was probably a good time to smoke outside and collect my thoughts. Who knew that bagoong's taste was determined by its shade of pink! My mother joined my outside and gave me her verdict early on: she likes Purple Turban and she thinks that we look very happy together. After i finished my cigarettes and coffee, I decided to go back to our table only to find myself hearing my father say "gentleman's agreement that you..." that made me realize I needed to wash my hands. And smoke some more. And have another coffee. It was one thing to be caught unaware that my boyfriend didn't know where pineapples come from but it was another thing to be in the middle of a serious conversation involving a father and his daughter's boyfriend.
By the time my mother and I went back to our table, the topic was lighter and my father didn't look as menacing. Thinking that we could slip into an easier topic involving palm trees and kittens, my father told Purple Turban: I trust you with my daughter and the two of you have our blessing.
I was both touched and surprised by what Purple Turban said: Thank you sir, mam. I love your daughter and I promise I'd take care of her. I don't know if it was the wine or maybe I sniffed some errant dried chili from the bottle, but I got teary when I heard him say that. To my parents. Not in a heated moment nor under the spell of romance. He said it unflinchingly to my parents.
When the diner was over and everyone went their separate ways, I felt unburdened. No more hiding, no more half-truths...though trees may never bear pineapples, the near-impossible happened: the man I love survived meeting my parents.