If I wasn’t writing this I would have already forgotten about this dud. For the sake of The Challenge, I’ll dig into the depths of my memory and attempt to extract at least a few moments of this date to write about. If you’re in the mood for a juicy story, find another post. Nothing exciting here; just another example of the vanilla dates everyone finds herself on at some point.
The pre-date texting was decent- a bit of wit, responded in an acceptable amount of time. I wasn’t super impressed with his pictures. Come to think of it, I don’t remember a single one. Oops. Coming off the Boobtastic Brit, I was a little apprehensive about this challenge, BUT a girl’s gotta power through, right? Plus, I’m a Leo. I don’t turn down challenges.
Vanilla: I know this great Pho place in Chinatown. Interested? Or we could just get drinks.
*Babe: Just drinks. It’s an easier escape if it turns out I’m crazy.
Vanilla: Good thinking! Lol. Drinks it is. Whiskey Tavern in Chinatown okay? Pretty low key.
Babe: Sounds good! 7:30?
Vanilla: See you then!
Pretty typical text convo, I guess. I always prefer bars to dinner on the first date unless I’ve already met him because, obviously. I don’t have time to waste and thankfully I don’t have to rely on other people to eat (no shame, ladies…been there, done that).
So I get to Whiskey Tavern at 7:30. He does not. I sit down with a Guinness for about 15 minutes before he gets there and doesn’t apologize (asshole). I’m going to skip through our conversation. There was literally nothing interesting about this person and I’m pretty sure I volunteered minimal information about myself.
He finishes his beer before I do and he doesn’t ask for another one. Could it be?? A one drink date?? I’m glad we’re on the same page and you think I’m just as boring as I find you!! He pays for our drinks and turns to me.
Let’s head over to the Pho place. My reservation’s in 10 minutes.
Oh, we’re going to get dinner? I specifically said JUST DRINKS.
Yeah, this place is so good. And cheap.
Okay, okay. I could have held my ground and been like, um, bye. But it was cold, and Pho sounded amazefest. So I stood up to go. And he immediately regretted it. He did the up and down and I could sense the disappointment. He was about three inches shorter than me (I’m 5’6″) and I was wearing heeled booties. Apparently he’s not super comfortable with his height.
So we got Pho and it was SO good. And the conversation was non-existent. And I was being a childish betch and didn’t even touch the check because I was minorly irritated that he made dinner reservations when I explicitly said “just drinks”. And he was real awkward about paying. And then we walked to the train. And then we parted ways. Riveting, huh?
But every experience can offer a lesson. The lesson here was that Whiskey Tavern is near a dope Pho place.