He Humiliated Me Because I Mispronounced ‘Shawarma’

When I looked at his profile, nothing stood out. It was a plain, boring, usual face looking back at me. As I raised my thumb to swipe left to add him to my increasing pile of rejections, his bio caught my eyes (and my breath).

The Lord of the rings is my religion.

I can eat 30 golgappas in 10 minutes and then race you.

The Lord of the rings and Golgappas! I was sold on. Meeting someone who has such great taste in movies and food, while mindlessly scrolling through a dating app is a rare occasion. To me, at that moment he was the most interesting find in the entire universe.

I counted my lucky stars for not swiping in the wrong direction and quickly swiped right, followed by a message. “Hi. I am sure that I can beat you in the golgappas competition. Wanna see?”.

Immediately, my notification pinged and his wonderfully crafted message was in my Inbox. It read “Dream on. We will have to see for ourselves, wouldn’t we?”

I giggled. Not only the man had an excellent palate, but he was also witty and charming. Sounded like the perfect man.

He immediately asked me out for golgappas and I gladly said yes. A date was set up in a nearby mall in a week’s time.

I was excited like a schoolgirl before the class trip. I even set a reminder on my google calendar. For the entire week, I kept on looking at the dates and counting the days left for the promising date.

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The first thing I noticed about him was his height.

He was easily 190 cm. As we hugged, he was towering over me. There was almost a foot long distance between the two of us. But his eyes were a beautiful caramel brown and when he smiled, he had a deep dimple on his right cheek. I could not help but check him out thoroughly.

As soon as he opened his mouth, I was floored. He was amazing with his words and posture. As he spoke passionately about his job, a smile was just constantly stuck to my lips. I had literal goosebumps up my arm.

“So, other than golgappas, what do you like to eat?” He raised an eyebrow.

My favorite question. “Everything and anything, as long as it has extra chilies and missing tomatoes. I hate that thing. It tastes so weird and soft.”

He chuckled like a gorgeous Greek scholar.

“I just ate Shawarma in the morning from this place near my house and it was so bland! Why would — ”

He cut me off, with an incredulous gasp. No longer was his face happy. He almost looked shocked.

“Wait a second. It is pronounced sha vuh muh. Not that.” He had genuine disgust on his face. “Where did you learn to call it that.”

He could not even bring himself to call Shawarma by its incorrect pronunciation. The one I had just used.

All of the giddiness was over. I was stunned. I felt my face go warm and flushed with pink. All my blood was rushing to my face, fast. I wanted the earth to open up and take me in. The mall did not appear welcoming, anymore.

“I mean, I don’t know,” I stuttered with my eyes on the ground “That’s how I assumed it would be pronounced. Silly me” I faked a laugh to ease the tension and my embarrassment.

He did not utter a single word. Just looked at me with his disappointed mud-brown eyes. He gave me a small nod and continued walking, leaving my pink self behind.

After 30 minutes of small talk, and avoiding the food court with the golgappas like the plague, he made an excuse about his family waiting for him for dinner (it was 4 in the evening) and he needed to leave early. When he left, he did not bother hugging goodbye.

Anger filled up my body. I could not believe that I was rejected, just because I mispronounced shawarma. The only incorrect sound was the vuh. While he rolled his tongue harder, I just used a flatter sound. It was not the end of the world.

I waited for him to hire his cab and started walking in the same direction to get one for myself, my fingers itching to send a long message to my best friend, ranting about this disastrous date. And the worst part is that I did not even get to eat my golgappas!

As I passed a street vendor, the tantalizing smell of shawarma invaded my nostrils. I glanced towards the store and saw a beautifully brown, perfectly cooked stack of meat being grilled on the heat. Water filled my mouth. I felt a hit of shame in eating something I did not even know to pronounce.

Men will come and go, but my true love will stay forever.

I shrugged off the bad experience of the evening, changed my course and the spent the rest of the day with my one true love, food.