“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” I thought. “This is too much.”
As we followed the hostess to our table, my gaze moved around the elegant glass domed room that was criss-crossed with large metal piping that ran from the floor to the high ceiling. Oversized art deco chandeliers hung throughout the space, giving off a comforting glow. Our cozy table for two was set off to the side, with a crisp white linen tablecloth and two delicately arranged napkins.
My immediate thought was, “Fuck. I am so underdressed.”
Continue reading Date Seven. Or, Date Six, V. 2.0. →
I. Was. Trashed.
Like really trashed. Like trashed to the point where I was having to think verrrry carefully about what I was saying, so that I wouldn’t slur my words.
I am actually usually quite good about not drinking too much on dates. I always stick to a two drink limit and it’s never been a problem. But the lack of food in the past 48 hours had given me no buffer for the alcohol whatsoever. So even though I’d only had 3/4 of a vodka soda, I was a drunken mess.
Stupid juice cleanse.
Continue reading Date Four. Part Two. →