One of my first blind dates on the two-year blind date binge was with a nice guy from Brooklyn. Having lived in New York his whole life, I was looking forward to our first date. We talked on the phone a few times; he looked like Jason Varitek (guilty pleasure white trash “yay”), was funny and had a close-knit family. On top of that, he was a schoolteacher – which I thought was awesome.
During conversation number 3, we decided to take the plunge and set a date to get together. He told great stories and I was ready to hear a couple in person – see if he could deliver live.
“Where do you want to go? You live in Manhattan and you’re pretty new to the city, so go ahead and pick anywhere,” he suggested.
Being completely insecure about how to handle first blind dates – and wanting him to choose to flex his man-decision-making muscles, I resisted.
“Oh I don’t know. Like you said I’m new to the city – I basically am at home or work or the gym if I’m not out with friends. You probably have a much better idea of where we’d have fun.”
Read between the lines, I’m being coy and girly and simple. Don’t you like it?
“OK, I’ll come up with something fun.” Fun? Fun! Great – how could fun be bad? “Let’s still plan on Thursday night – I’ll give you a call in the next day or so and let you know where we’ll go.”
I ate it up. He was going to put some thought into it, not make some gut decision to go to the only bar he could think of or somewhere the average girl would think is “impressive.” I was stoked.
As promised (see, nice guy), he called the next day.
“So I’ve been thinking since our last conversation and I think I have the perfect place.”
“Great! Let’s hear it – anything is fine with me.”
“Well, it’s been around for a while. I’ve always wanted to go – my friends have always said I’d have so much fun there.”
“Hah – you’re killing me! Sounds fantastic – what area of the city is it?”
“You work in Times Square right?”
“Yeah. Is it in the area?”
Say no, say no, say no, say no.
“Perfect – yeah!”
“Oh great – what’s the place called?”
“Dave & Busters Times Square!”
“Fun,” was all I could muster.
Our conversation continued – and the further we moved from the topic of this native New Yorker’s choice to have our first date at a glorified arcade in Times Square, the better the conversation got.
I realized Dave & Busters could probably be a lot of fun for a date. There were games and drinks and plenty to distract us. He’d have the opportunity to let me win a game or two and I’d have the opportunity to drink my face off if the evening was a nightmare.
As I was feeling pretty good, faux Varitek interrupted, “Oh, can I call you right back? I’m at the house.”
“The house? What do you mean?”
“I have a delivery.”
“Yeah, didn’t I mention that I deliver pizza’s?”
“Oh. No, you didn’t,” don’t judge don’t judge.
“Yeah! It’s just something I do. I’ll call you right back.”
He kept his word and called right back. The surprise 2nd career was nothing compared to what I was in for on our date.