No Pancakes before Yoga

„Hi, I’m Michael“, he said as he offered me his hand. Seriously? I mean, are you fucking serious. We are on a first date and he wants to shake my hand. Unbelievable. Let me rephrase, New York is unbelievable. One more time, New York’s men are unbelievable. I am not going to comment on his freshly pressed chinos that look like a pair of Dickies with the brand patch removed. I was hoping he was going to realize how weirded out I was and at least give me a hug without moving his belly close. You know one of those hunched over, half-assed hugs. At the very least. But he just stood there like a statue, smiling with his arm stretched toward me. I finally grabbed it with a deliberately sloppy handshake. Anyway, at least the restaurant was fancy. Just as I was about to go inside, he simply said: “Where are you going? Talarico’s? No one goes there anymore. I’m taking to a special place”. We walked a block and then turned left. I looked up and saw the bright neon lettering: JOYSTICK. Okaaaaay. So, this could mean a few different things. Was it a gay bar? A dildo bar? Simply a night club? I mean this would all be ok, I was fine with not having dinner and just drinking away the miserable handshake. He opened the door as though I was entering the Palace of Versailles. My jaw dropped. Not in awe, well kind of, but more at the audacity to bring me to an 80s themed video games restaurant. He had reserved a table and also the 3 course menu consisting of onion soup, beef wellington and a stack of pancakes. I didn’t like onions, and of all the conceivable things you could create with beef, the most inconceivable thing was beef wellington and yes, I will die on that hill. So I stuck with the pancakes. We had long island iced teas and played Winter Games on a C64. Ok, I have to admit that it was fun except the part where I got a tendinitis from the biathlon. I went to the bathroom after I had finished the long island iced tea. Obviously, there was not going to be a line for the women’s restroom at this nerdy establishment but did stop just before I went in. There was a picture of a fire fighter. John McNulty. Died on 09/11 after saving hundreds of lives. He was a big fan of playing video games and of beef wellington, and in his honor his children opened this restaurant. I felt bad for having denied the wellington now. When I got back, the stack of pancakes had arrived and Michael had casually downed his onion soup waiting for the main course while doing backflips on a bmx. I thought it was rude that he had already eaten the first course, then again there were two more for him and I guess I was already in a belligerent mood after handshake-gate. “FUCK! I never get that trick right”, Michael yelled. Heads turned, a few giggles. He did not ask me anymore questions and I blamed it on the soup. Out of frustration, I stuffed my face with the pancakes. Ten to be exact. With a bucket full of maple syrup and a football sized slab of butter. I just sat there. Digesting. Suffering. Thinking of what to do next. He was eating the wellington with one hand and moving the joystick with the other. Sauce was dripping from his chin. “I need to go to the bathroom”, I said picking up my jacket and purse. I sneaked out and walked off my pancakes. I ignored his texts that started coming in after about twenty minutes. Yeah, that was how long it took for him to react. I mean, I did say that I needed to go to the bathroom and it could have been a number two for all he knew but twenty minutes? Come on. Ding. Sarah. “Do you want to finally join me at my yoga class?!?! It starts at 10 pm”. I checked the time. 9.46 pm. I was two blocks away. “Can you bring some extra clothing, I am on my way back from a date and won’t make it if I have to go back home”. “Oh my god, I cannot believe you came! So excited!” Sarah said. “Yeah, me too”, I answered. “Oh. How was your date?”, Sarah added. “Don’t ask”, I said somberly. We started with some flows or whatever. I was not flexible at all. I needed to reply to my date, at least a courtesy message. But what should I say? HUURGHHHGHGHHHHHH. HUUURRGHHHGGGHH. The pancakes were spread out before me. The smell was bad. My phone buzzed. Michael: “So, do you want to go on a second date?”