Good Greek Girls Don't by Georgia Tsialtas

taken them yet. That’s it. I’ll create some family emergency and leave early.
    â€˜That sounds like a good idea.’ Give me details, Chris. Please don’t make me ask for them.
    â€˜How about I pick you up around seven?’

    He wants to pick me up? That’s a no-no. Guys do not come to my house on a first date. Denny didn’t come anywhere near my house for six months. And even then, he never made it into the house. He got as far as sitting in his car to pick me up.
    â€˜How about I just meet you there. It’s easier.’ I could use work as an excuse, travel time. Anything is better than him coming to my place.
    â€˜Desi, I like to do things properly. When I take a lady out, it’s door-to-door service.’ Is he sure he’s Greek? He doesn’t sound like most of the Greek guys I know. ‘I’ll pick you up from home and drop you off there, not around the corner, not at a park nearby, not at a coffee shop. We’re a bit too old for that shit, aren’t we?’ He can’t be Greek. He’s a gentleman masquerading as a Greek. But I barely know him. How can I tell him where I live? He might turn out to be psychotic or obsessive or anything.
    â€˜As long as you don’t come inside and have a deep and meaningful with my folks about their veggie garden. Buzz my mobile when you get there and I’ll come out.’
    I’m allowed to put conditions on it. I’m Desi. ‘And don’t honk the horn like a wog.’ We’re both laughing.
    â€˜Are you worried about what your parents will say?’
    â€˜Nah. I just can’t be bothered going through the Spanish Inquisition with them. You know, who is he? What part of Greece is he from? What does he do? How old is he? Where does he live? What do his parents do? What church does he go to? So unless you want to email me your life history in twenty five words or less, we’ll do it my way.’ At least he sees the funny side of this. But if Chris were to come to my door there would be no end to the questions that I would have to answer. No way would I intentionally put myself through that torture. No way is my family getting their hooks into Chris before I do.
    â€˜Okay, we’ll do this your way. This time.’ Why does that sound like a warning? Like this is just the beginning? ‘I’ll call you tomorrow to get your details.’ Thank God he didn’t ask me for my address here and now, because at the moment I am struggling to remember what my name is let alone anything else.
    â€˜Okay. Chris, I better get back to my paperwork.’ And a good message to email to Adrian so that he can let me leave work at five instead of eight. No way am I cancelling tomorrow night. No way. I better come up with something good.
    â€˜I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’ Silence. I am beginning to hate silence.
    â€˜Desi?’
    â€˜Yes, Chris?’ God, he has such a sexy voice.
    â€˜I’m really looking forward to tomorrow night.’
    My stomach is on spin cycle. ‘Me, too. I better go. See you tomorrow, Chris.’
    â€˜Bye Des.’
    Suddenly the line is dead and I’m staring at my phone with what must look like the biggest, cheesiest grin ever. Violet is looking at me like I am from another planet. Working in a relatively small call centre, we all get to know quite a bit about each other and I think I have just confirmed Violet’s suspicions: her team leader is nuts. An absolute lunatic.
    â€˜Violet, if you ever tell anyone about this I’ll have you on ten o’clock starts for three months.’ She knows I’m joking. I hope. I don’t care. I’m going out with Chris tomorrow night. Maybe I should have listened to Katerina sooner!

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    I’m standing in front of my wardrobe wearing nothing but my bra and undies and having a minor panic attack. By the time I got out of