Happy Monday Purgators!
This week our guest post is from one of our favourite relationship experts, Demetrius Figueroa. Demetrius’ website, Tao of Indifference is filled with some of the best advice on the internet and if you haven’t checked it out yet be sure to put it on your “to do” list for this week. We are thrilled and honoured to have Demetrius share his best first date story with us, and we know you our readers are really going to enjoy it!
It started, like most modern romances, on a dating site. I can’t remember who messaged who first, but I do remember that our conversation just seemed to flow, and it was obvious early on that we had something special. We quickly went from exchanging pleasantries and flirting to date planning. We decided to meet in the East Village for drinks and see where the night would take us. The plan was to meet at a bar called Common Ground, which is one of my favorite date bars because it’s reasonably priced, and the bar is stocked with a wide assortment of board games. The idea of drinking and playing Connect Four with a date will never not be a great idea to me. With the date, time, and location set, all that was left was the anticipation of meeting in person.
I’ve been on quite a few first dates in my life, a lot of them with women I’ve met online, and there’s always that moment where you wonder if the person whose pictures you’ve been checking out is actually the person who is showing up on the date. My date, let’s call her The Russian*, was exactly who I thought she’d be. She was gorgeous in person, which is always a good start, and the best part was that the rapport we built through messaging and texting carried over to our chatting in person. The best part though, was the fact that she could drink. She is actually Russian, and stereotypes are usually wrong are off-base, but she could put down vodka like no woman I’ve ever met. The conversation was flowing, the vodka and sodas were flowing, when after 4 or 5 drinks she suggested a venue change. Half drunk, wholly enamored, I decided to go with the flow and let her take the lead.
We ended up roaming in the East Village until we happened upon a cocktail bar called Simone (which later closed, sadly). Before entering I decided, in the way that only a person who has been shamelessly flirting and is well on their way to inebriation does, that we had to make out right then and there. I kissed her on the corner of one of the more busy avenues in NYC and it felt like we were utterly alone. Until someone catcalled us, which prompted our entrance into the bar. If I told you exactly how many drinks we had at the bar, or what we talked about, or how many times we kissed while there, I’d be lying. Hell, I barely remember who long we were there, but I do remember that the flirting continued, the kissing continued, and the drinking continued. At this point I was already planning date #2 in my head.
One problem though. In between all the kissing and drinking, we both forgot to eat, which felt like it might end in disaster. It was about 1am, and our options are limited, so we get pho (a Vietnamese noodle soup) and decide that a great place to eat this soup would be at a late night karaoke bar. Why did we choose a soup, the least sexy meal to eat on a date? No clue! Why did we decide that 1am would be a great time to do karaoke together? Haven’t the faintest idea. All I know is that the karaoke place we went to, Sing Sing Karaoke, is one of the rare places in NYC that stays open until 6 am. Because at this point, I think we both could see ourselves being on an almost 12 hour date together.
We rented a private room so we could sing in private. By sing, I mean make out in that overtly sexually charged way that only drunk people on first dates make out. In-between chowing down on our soups, we managed to serenade each other with some pretty amazing song choices. She sang Space Oddity, and I sang Erotic City, and at some point we sang a duet that devolved into a pretty heated make out session that was interrupted when one of the karaoke attendants came by to check on us because we were steaming up the room. I mean that quite literally. No clue if it was the soups, or our making out, but we definitely made it hot int here. Finally, around 3am, The Russian decided that we should end the night. She had afternoon plans that she was already preemptively hung over for, so we finally, after 8 hours of drinking, flirting, and kissing, ended one of the best first dates I’ve ever been on.