Dopey on cough syrup

This week, my guy started off with a light cough. It progressed into a dry, hacking one.

On Thursday, he called me from his car.

"Hey, sweetie. I left work early and am going to a walk-in clinic. I'll see how long it takes for me to see a doctor and then we can meet for dinner somewhere,"
"Okay," I said, at my desk taking the call.

Roughly twenty minutes later, he called me to say that he was done seeing the doctor and got a prescription for cough medicine. Wow, that was fast! We met at the Afghani restaurant again, but for dinner.

My order was better in that I didn't get dairy dressing on my salad. However, my guy didn't get any, either. I also got rice even though I never ordered it.

We sat down and started eating. My guy was dopey.

"It's rush hour right now. It's Rush Limbaugh hour... haha," he said.
"Are you okay?" I asked him.
"Sure, I'm doing the Rush Lambada," he said, moving his arms around as if he were dancing.

My guy doesn't dance unless he is high on something. He's a sweet, cheerful dopey guy when he is.

"How much over-the-counter cough medicine did you have today?" I asked him.
"I have this much left of the bottle," he said, showing me less than an inch with his fingers.
"Wow, that's a ton," I noted.
"Yes. I needed to suppress my cough. I ended up chugging it down," he admitted.

Luckily, we were at the restaurant for two hours and he had cut off his cough syrup-chugging for two hours before we met. It was wearing off by the time we left.

"You'll be okay?" I asked him.
"Yes, I'm doing much better now," he said, squeezing my hand.

We both learned that you can indeed get high on cough syrup. I recommend that you don't!

Polite, sweet guy

On Monday, my guy and I went out for lunch. The roads were in pretty good condition. However, the plaza had a ton of slush and ice.

My guy parked and noticed that there were puddles everywhere. He insisted on driving me to the front door of the restaurant. It was a sweet, kind gesture.

I waited for him to park and walk over to the Chinese restaurant. We he got there, I tugged on the right door. It was locked. I tried the left one. Same thing. I then looked at the sign that was taped to the glass. The restaurant was closed due to flooding from the ice storm. Oh, no!

Luckily, this plaza has a number of eateries. We tried an Afghani restaurant. I have been there a number of times, but he hadn't.

The pavement was slippery. My guy immediately reached for my hand as we walked over. I love that he always wants to make sure that I am okay.

We walked in and ordered. He got the beef kofta with salad and a pita. I went with the grilled chicken skewer with rice, salad, and a pita. I asked that the salad dressing be held.

We found a booth and sat down. We chatted until our number was called, which was 13. It finally was and we both got our food.

Sadly, I had salad dressing on my salad. The dressing has dairy and I am borderline lactose-intolerant.

My guy was not thrilled. He took my tray of food back and asked for a dressing-free salad. He is truly my knight in shining armour. He came back with a new plate of non-dairy food. I was a happy camper.

It was a good lunch. He liked the food, so we now have two places to have lunch at.

After we were done, my guy decided to fetch his car and had me wait outside. He was exceptionally sweet and I told him so.

"I would do anything for you. It's easy," he admitted.
"I love when you are so naturally sweet," I pointed out.
"You're an attractive woman. You deserve being treated well," he said, being mushy.

I love him. I reached for his hand and held it lovingly as he drove us back to the office.