I love olives.
I mean, I reeaally looooove olives. Castelvetrano—those plump green ones from Spain—are my favorite. But I am by no means an olive snob. I am beyond happy to open a cheap can of mission olives, dig my fingers in the liquid and pop them into my mouth two at a time. I used to think this was one thing, among many, that made me unique.
Then I met Jordan.
And as we were getting to know each other, we revealed small bits of information about ourselves. For example, Jordan drinks his coffee black and he loves curry.
I decided to tell him about olives, hoping to make an impression so that he might remember how much I like them and one day surprise me with a lifetime supply. I summoned my deepest passion for the salty treats, and with a very serious look on my face, I revealed one of my small, but unique attributes.
“I…looove…olives,” I said.
He looked unimpressed.
“I know,” he replied.
“Do you want to know how I know?,” he asked.
Without giving me time to answer, he replied to his own question:
“Because you’re a woman.”
Later, when we were talking about books, art and creative expression I told him that I took a photography class in college.
“I know,” he said.
“Do you want to know how I know? …because you’re a woman.”
Dark chocolate, red wine, sushi…none of these can be mine because, according to Jordan, they belong to all women.
It’s a good thing I met him at 34 because my 22-year-old self would have been deeply offended. Now at least I can appreciate that he seems to know what pleases me.
Other things women love:
- Bed and Breakfasts