Rob Eldridge doesn’t like hummus. He doesn’t like the way it tastes. He doesn’t like the way it smells. He doesn’t like its texture. He doesn’t even like triangle-sliced pita bread, but when he approached the snack table at his buddy Derrick’s party on Saturday night and locked eyes with the gorgeous brunette standing there—alone—holding a huge glass of Pinot grigio, he knew he had an important decision to make. The meatballs looked good—real good, but they would be messy and out him as a boorish Philistine. Going for the crudités would flag him as health-conscious but slightly feminine. And then he saw it. Hummus. He put down his Heineken, spooned himself a dollop, and artfully tonged four pita slices onto his little plate. He shot a glance at the girl before decisively sliding the first bite into his mouth. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and stepped closer to her. “How’s the Pinot?” he asked.
Hinckley house
5 weeks ago
