We decided to meet at a bar in the East Village
- Oh, by the way, I’m dating someone in your office.
- That’s nice. Who is it?
- His name is blah, blah, blah. You know him?
- Oh yeah. His office is across from mine.
Then I would worry that they’re talking about me together. Maybe they don’t like each other which would make things even worse a la “What does she see in that guy?” Anyways, I, ahem, researched the guy which is ridiculously hard to do when all you have to go on is a first name and the college he went to. (Thank you Facebook for making it possible.) As expected, they don’t work at the same place. And like I mentioned, messages back and forth were super easy and fun until he had to push back the time we were meeting because of work. (I’m super flexible and easy going when it comes to a lot of things, but I don’t want to go down that road again. It was a crazy exception to the rule when FD3 worked that many hours, but I still got crazy flashbacks.)
I got to the bar first as I usually do. When meeting a new person for the first time, I like to be at the spot first to scope things out and regroup myself. I don’t want to “find” the guy; I’d rather him find me. When he got there, we decided to go upstairs. The downstairs section was really loud, and although upstairs is usually a dance floor (weird), I thought it best to try. Fortunately, there was no dance party that evening. There were a bunch of people though which was kind of nice.
We strolled up to the bar to grab drinks. The bartender said:
- Hi. Are you [word vomit, word vomit, word vomit].
- I’m sorry. One more time?
- Are you with the group in the back?
- Oh, no. We’re not.
The guy I was standing next to, not my date, interrupted.
- You should totally join the group or just say you are. You’ll get drink specials.
- But what’s the group.
- We’re the couch surfing group. We’re just having an event for members, but you could get a name tag and then you’ll be a part of it.
- You’re wearing your name on a piece of masking tape.
- Yeah, I know. They had to go get more nametags. Have you ever couch surfed?
- No, but I’ve heard of people doing it.
- It’s really awesome. You should definitely sign up. You get to meet all kinds of people. People do it all over the world.
- Have you ever surfed?
- Well, I’ve hosted, but I’ve never surfed.
- So you’re a couch surfing virgin, but you’re telling us we should do it?
- Yeah. Hey Jordan, come tell them about couch surfing.
This went on for about 15 minutes. I’d still barely said a sentence to the guy I actually came to the bar with. We got nametags for the hell of it and found as private a spot as we could find away from the couch surfers. Unfortunately, the spot we found had a third chair and shortly after we sat down a lone couch surfer (identified by his nametag) made his way to the empty chair.
- Don’t make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact.
It’s not that we wanted to be anti-social. We were being social in fact. We just wanted to be social with each other it being a first date and all. We noticed quickly that there was another group besides the couch surfers in the room.
- It’s kind of like we’re at a swingers party and the couch surfers are trying to rope in the other group.
- I know. It’s really weird.
- [The random guy interrupts.] What did you say?
- Uh, nothing.
- [Random guy] If you’re wondering if they’re part of the couch surfers, they’re not. They’re an office party.
- Oh, uh, thanks.
Fortunately, the random guy left. We decided to get another drink. My date, the gentleman that I’m sure he is, offered to brave the crowd of couch surfers to get another round but not before heading to the bathroom first. I promised to save his seat and off he went.
- Hi. Are you here by yourself too?
I looked up at the woman approaching. She was wearing a couch surfing nametag.
- Hi. Um, no. My friend went to the bathroom.
- Oh, mind if I sit?
- Not at all. She took the open, third chair.
- I’m Bea. Do you surf much?
- No. Actually, we stumbled upon this group just tonight.
- Really? So you haven’t hosted or surfed?
- Nope. We literally came into the bar and somehow joined the group. It was at this moment that I regretted not taking off my nametag.
- Oh wow. Well, you should totally do it some time. You meet so many cool people.
- So I’ve heard. My date walked back towards us with drinks in hand. FD82, this is Bea. Bea, this is FD82.
- Oh, nice to meet you FD82. I hear you’ve never couch surfed. [Blah, blah, blah. Yada, yada, yada.] Oh my gosh. Is this bottle of tequila yours?
I looked where she was pointing. There was a bottle of tequila in its original boxed packaging sitting on the table in front of us.
- Uh, no. I hadn’t noticed it before. That’s completely random. I wonder where it came from. [Blah, blah, tequila.]
- Oh my gosh. Are you two on a date?
- Uh, maybe.
- I am so sorry. Why didn’t you say anything?!
- It’s ok.
And with that, she left. We didn’t have any more visitors to our date that night. Probably because we took off our nametags, but you never know. The rest of the date went well, but I don’t think it could really compete with the couch surfing craziness. We went on a brunch date a few days later, but alas. The saga continues . . .
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