It was a heated summer afternoon few months ago. I planned to meet Alden for lunch at Amaze, an Asian fusion restaurant by First Avenue. It was almost a 15-minute walk from Fifth Avenue where my office is located. As usual, we ordered our favorite: steamed Shumai for appetizer, a bowl of salad, Salmon Teriyaki with brown rice, and of course Thai iced tea to complete the meal. Our server Angie has already memorized our order every time Alden and I will go there around 12:30pm. The only thing that sometimes change is Alden might fancy either Edamame beans or Gyoza (Fried meat dumpling) in place of Shumai. “How are you feeling right now?” Alden would ask me knowing about the crisis I was going through for months now. That day I said “I am trying to cope; my therapy and medication are helping along with occasional meeting up with friends like this one with you.” He quipped “I am glad you sounded like you are on your way to recovery” as we are finishing the salad and occasional sips of the tea. After the lunch, Angie asked us if we want a second helping of Thai iced tea to which we replied with a resounding “No”, adding we will just lubricate our throat with water but we will get an order of Fried Ice Cream that we will share so she has to bring two teaspoons. Then memory of a familiar conversation in 2012 came to both our minds as we were talking about second helping and sharing: a man we both slept with at different points in time.
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