The lights were dim and the soft light from the candle placed in the middle of the table gently highlighted his face like a filter. The view of him picking his teeth with his butter knife was perfect. Actually, it was disturbing but I was trying to make the best of this because I already put on pants to come here. He proceeded to tell me the difference between men and women. According to him, we are these emotional, fragile, creatures. Then he followed up with a story about how he flipped out on a chick for calling him “medium-height” (the irony). He then proceeded to tell me what he looks for in a woman and what a woman’s job entails. Equal rights was a dumb concept to him until the check came. “It’s the first date so I’ll pick it up but if we’re going to be equal up in here, that includes equally going half on these expensive ass dates.” Wow, the check was $47 but go off then. He then asks the waiter for another to-go container. “I’m still hungry but I can eat the rest at your place.” he says in between his teeth sucking. At that point, I knew there was no positive outcome with this. The free meal didn’t even make it worth it. I told him that I was going to go to the bathroom. When I said bathroom, I meant Uber. I’ll be damned if he even sets one ashy foot into my house. The bathroom is right by the entrance. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was strategically placed there. I make a run for it.
I hop into my getaway car and announce myself to my driver Cherise, who is saving me in her Toyota Corolla. I buckle up and she pulls off. “Bad date?” She asks. We both just bust out in laughter. “How did you know?” I ask her while catching the rest of my breath. “Girl, you sprinted right out to the car. Between the fresh wash and go and the face you made that basically said “Go, Go, Go” it was a dead give-away. That or you dined and dashed”. We started laughing again. I gave her a quick summary of the date and we cracked a few jokes until we pulled up to my complex. She made sure that I got through the vestibule safely without Satan’s Hotep cousin following me after leaving him at the table. I take off my shoes and begin to climb up the stairs. I hear heavy footsteps behind me and I jump. I take a quick look behind me and it’s just my neighbor Tone. “Bad date?” he asks. I point to his gym bag and ask “Gym day?” while trying to look at his face and not his chest (I ended up looking anyway). “Yeah, it was supposed to be. It was too packed though so I just left.” he responds. We always do this little dance every time we see each other in the building. He strikes up a little conversation, I carry it on and then he leaves as I stand there for a second wondering more about him. The most of a move he’s ever made was add me on facebook. According to what I know he’s single, loves literature, works at a firm, and he’s emphatically handsome. “That sucks” I respond. I don’t know what to say to keep this conversation going. My luck with men tonight is not there obviously. “It seems like your date sucked.” He chuckles. “Well if you’re free, you can come in and I'll tell you about it”. SHIT, that came out SO direct. I feel the blood rushing to my face. Tone looks a bit surprised. “You have my time and you have my ears, let’s go”.
We walk up to our floor and I unlock my door. As I push the door open, he holds it as I walk in. I throw my heels into the bottom of my coat closet and respond to Cherise’s text that asks if I made it up okay. I text her that I made it all the way in safely and tip her $5 through the app. I offer him a seat on the couch and pull out a hefty bottle of Pinot Noir out of the fridge. “I hope you don’t mind. I definitely need this after tonight.” Tone laughs and says “I only mind if you don’t pour me a glass too.” I grab two glasses and head over to the couch and plop myself right beside him. I take a big gulp of wine and dive right into the story. He is having a field day making fun of this dude. He’s laughing at every part of the story and asking if the story gets worse, which it does. I then end the story with how I slid out of the restaurant and was saved by the dopest Uber driver ever. “See, he first messed up by taking you to that whack ass restaurant. Dude didn’t know what he was doing off rip.” Tone says as he has another sip of wine. “Oh really? How would you have done it?” I say curious as to how a date with him would be. He laughs and says “I mean, if I was keeping it simple, I would’ve taken you dancing. There’s this place up North that has the livest salsa and bachata nights. Then after we’d get drinks at this bar nearby that has the BEST tamales and cocktails. We’d chop it up and if you feel up to it, you know hypothetically speaking, we’d catch a late movie.” His caramel cheeks begin to rose. His nervousness is cute. He doesn’t have to play it cool with me. I’m interested in seeing what a date is like with him if he can’t tell already. I decide to get a little bold for him. I don’t know if it’s me or the wine at this point but I'm tired of dancing in the hallway. “Why do we have to be hypothetically speaking? my weekends are pretty free.” He blushes even more. His brown eyes, sparkling, pierces into mine. It looks like he wants to say more than what he’s getting ready to say. “Well, you have until this Saturday by 7 pm to find some dancing shoes because the ones you wore tonight will tear your feet UP!” He laughs and points to me holding my foot which is still clearly in pain. As if the shoes I wore weren’t already uncomfortable enough, I had to run in them tonight. I laugh and continue rubbing my feet. “Here, you’re doing it wrong. Let me” Tone says as he reaches for my foot. Thank God I didn’t procrastinate on getting a pedicure because had this been just last night, I would’ve been embarrassed. “So tell me something about you I don’t know outside of Facebook?” He says as he attentively rubs my feet. I give him a little summary about myself. He makes fun of me for sounding like an Instagram bio then goes on to ask me about my favorite things. As the conversation continues we realize that we have much more in common than what we would’ve thought. Time and more wine goes by. Before we know it, we’re watching brown sugar and slightly cuddled up on the couch. This moment feels like everything. Then my phone vibrates loudly on the table, snapping me momentarily out of bliss. “Damn, that shrimp scampi got your stomach that tore up?” my date from hell texts. Tone roars in laughter. His nosey ass read the text along with me. I laugh too, block his number, and place my head back gently on his strong chest. I zone back into the movie and Tone. I guess this night isn’t so bad after all.
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