Dateline: Jagermeister and the Relative Merits of Sleigh Bells
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8:55 p.m. – Arrive at bar. Date has not joined in my own paranoia, and will not arrive until fifteen minutes after the agreed-upon time.
9:30 – Date arrives. I am three drinks in. I decide to slow down and order a beer instead of another cocktail.
9:37 – Date snorts while laughing at my joke. +1.
9:59 – Date suggests shots. Jagermeister. -1.
10:07 – Sleigh Bells come on on the bar's stereo. Date attempts to convince me of the merits of Sleigh Bells. I remain unconvinced.
10:15 – Date suggests new venue and food. I decide that either this is going well or she's just hungry.
10:27 – Date decides on nearby taco truck. This isn't a good sign for my idea that things are is going well — typically ordering and consuming food in the street is not an invitation to further conversation.
10:31 – While waiting for tacos, date begins loudly making fun of people's clothing as they walk past us. I am equally smitten and frightened — some of these people are larger than I am.
10:35 – Tacos arrive. Conversation stops.
10:40 – Date decides on one more bar. I decide this is going well.
10:45 – Date decided on this bar because her friends were there already. This is not going as well as I thought.
10:50 – Date's friends are nice. I buy a round. "Awwwws" ensue.
11:00 – One of my date's friends hates Sleigh Bells and says they make music for "cheerleaders who wish they were cool enough to have done coke in the bathroom during high school." I am in love for the second time tonight.
11:45 – I am now very drunk, and my date and her friends are leaving. Before I collapse into a cab, she kisses me on the cheek in what is either a sweetly chaste gesture of approval or a condescending Participation ribbon.
12:17 a.m. – Date texts and asks for dinner sometime. I am the champion. Freddie Mercury is me.
12:18 – Date's follow-up text calls me a lightweight. I am chastened, but encouraged. I promise not to drink so much so early next time and text her a smiley face.
12:18:01 – I immediately regret texting a smiley face, but elect to pass out instead of taking futher action.
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