Love Labor's Lost

volumes of mis-adventures

Sharing food is the cutest!

We talked about the arbitrary nature of language; how impossible it is to truly communicate. We made assumptions about whether or not red wine is better when it’s left to “breathe.” We fumbled into a conversation on the existence of a higher power. We trickled through our favorite music. A glass of wine each, 6 tapas-esque dishes to share, yellow curry turmeric basil soft serve for dessert, and an after meal cocktail later, we were both a little tipsy and the restaurant was shutting down.

Jo* is 5’8’” blond hair, brown eyes. He has dark thick framed Prada glasses, and he’s always dressed like a model from some casual menswear catalog, with a flair of hipster. He’s cute. Jo* and I went to high school together, and we knew each other in passing. We were friendly, but saying we were friends would be a stretch. I’ve bumped into him at a couple of parties, as we have mutual friends. After the last shindig we both attended, he texted me an inquiry, e-mailed me with details, and called me to confirm. Yesterday, we went out to Yusho: a trendy, delicious, Japanese restaurant, with impressive interior brick, mod-wooden tables and black cushioned booths for seating. The place was adorned with light fixtures hanging from thick double braided marine ropes and artwork projected on the walls from discrete projector I couldn’t identify.

We spent 4 hours at dinner. Conversation was way too heavy for a first date, but also seemingly transitioned smoothly from one heavy subject to the next. We barely talked about our families, our friends, or our jobs. We didn’t really do the “normal” first date tango. I like him. I don’t really know what else to think. He’s nice. I had a nice time.

He didn’t hesitate when the bill came, and didn’t seem to even entertain the possibility of me chipping in. He paid for both cabs, he opened all doors. He was polite, kind, and lovely. We ended the date with a hug and a “hope to see you soon” on his end. Through my psycho analytical lenses that is ‘girl vision’ that translates to a less than positive outcome.

On the bright side, the check came in a sardine can. So that was pretty cool.

On the other side of the spectrum, date number two of the weekend, was supposed to be tonight, with Nelson, he didn’t just bail, he failed to contact me completely. There was totally a reason why he faded away three years ago; he shouldn’t have resurfaced.

*name changed

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