ACT 1: “I assumed that she was going to have an incredibly tough time communicating with me.”
So how’d you end up on this date?
Funnily enough, I met this date completely by chance as I was conducting interviews in Washington Square Park. She and I talked about music for ten minutes and I slipped her my card. She ended up texting me an hour later and asking me out for coffee.
Tell us what you knew (or think you knew) about them before you met up. Did you Google them? (Admit it.)
All I knew was that she was a tourist from Belgium. I assumed that she was going to have an incredibly tough time communicating with me.
What did you plan to do? Whose bright idea was it?
She asked me out for coffee, but I decided to change it to drinks – really, because I’m an awkward bastard and alcohol helps smooth the transition from totally awkward to not-so-awkward.
What were your immediate thoughts/feelings when you saw your date? Fine, beauty is only skin deep, but how’d your date look?
I thought she was beautiful and totally looked like Heather Graham. Which is awesome, because I feel like I’ve seen Heather Graham naked a lot. She was wearing these big nerdy glasses and a foxy blue dress. I still have a soft spot in my heart for nerdy looking ladies, and she fit the bill. I wanted to drill my love into her heart. (I mentioned she was a dentist, yeah?)
ACT 2: “I found myself drowning in her Olympic-pool-sized pale green eyes.”
So, what exactly did you end up doing? Take us through the sequence of events. Just the facts here.
First, I fumbled with my phone as I tried to figure out where the bar was. She laughed at me and we started walking – luckily in the right direction. Then we started drinking. I had five-ish beers, and she had four. I ordered this beer that tasted like it had been diluted with Kool-Aid and we would giggle after every single sip I took. Plus I accidentally elbowed some woman in the head. That sucked… for that woman. Not so much for me. Then we left the bar and tried to find somewhere that was open that served cupcakes, then we stopped to make out, then she dropped me off at the train station.
Tell us about your conversations on the date. Were they interesting? Flirtatious? Combative?
It was adorably awkward. It was clear we both had dumb little crushes on each other – so every other sentence was cushioned by an awkward silence and shared glances. Then I found out she loved The Simpsons as much as I did, so we pretty much quoted The Simpsons for the rest of the night.
What surprised you most about your date?
I was honestly surprised at how successful she was. She mentioned she did dental work, but I assumed she was an assistant. Turns out she’s a full-time dentist at a practice, pays her own rent, and eats well. I guess I’m too used to dating scrubby scrubs. Side-effects from alcohol be damned, I thought she was absolutely breathtaking. As we sat across from each other, I found myself drowning in her Olympic-pool-sized pale green eyes.
Conversation-wise, did you hold anything back? What might you have blurted out if you’d had one more drink? Unless you did have one more drink.
She was very, very easy to talk to and – my God – I just remembered I told her how good I was at sex. That was actually directly because of the booze. Not to say I’m bad at sex – I think it’s one of two things I excel at.
ACT 3: “I would snuggle with her on my couch and watch every episode of The Simpsons ever.”
How’d it end? Polite hug? Taxi sex? Fistfight?
We ended up kissing and holding hands. It was adorable and romantic. I asked her if she wanted to come back home to Brooklyn and she politely declined, but said she wanted to see me again. It couldn’t have gone any better.
Would you go out again? And if so, what might you want to do? If you went out again, what would you do differently? Or did you ace it, you sly devil?
Yes – I would snuggle with her on my couch and watch every episode of The Simpsons ever – then she would be stuck with me for days. The only problem is the fact that she lives thousands of miles away in a country where I don’t speak the language. And all my stuff is here, you know? If I could get a redo, I probably wouldn’t have been so forward and asked her to come back to my place. I have a hard time remembering that not all bitches are hos. Also, not all bitches like being called bitches.
Time for a little objectivity: how close do you think your date’s version of this story would be to yours? And what might they differ on?
She’s a very honest, straightforward, hard-boiled lady. So she would have recounted the story verbatim, like it was a police report. Fuckin’ dentists, man.
Thanks for your time. Anything you’d like to add?
She was easily the most attractive person I’ve ever kissed. But what made the whole thing so wonderful was the little intermittent comments she would make in Flemish.