Date Stories, J

J: The Whisper Song

Context: I had been talking to “Quiet” for two days on Tinder when he asked me to meet up the next week for drinks. He said he would find somewhere between Clarendon and his apartment in U Street, but ended up suggesting Fuego, which I can actually see from my apartment. YES PLEASE. We met up on a Wednesday after work.

Tequila and I are working through a tough spot in our relationship. It all started last Saturday, when I straight up died at the hands of Mr. Cuervo. Have you ever played flip cup with tequila? NOT ADVISED. Thus, I was a little bit nervous when Quiet asked me to a tequila bar, but I put my big girl pants on, processed a full-body cringe or twelve, and sucked it up. Who am I to turn down free* tequila?

*Paid for by an unsuspecting gentleman looking for love HAHA what’s love?!


He was sitting at the bar when I got there, which I HATE. It’s like duck duck goose for dates, tapping unsuspecting men on the shoulder, scrutinizing their face while holding up the low-res image I have from Tinder, and then moving on to the next guy. It’s a torturous process, guys. My life is really hard.

When I finally found my goose – er, date – I was pleasantly surprised by how cute he was… but unpleasantly surprised when he stood up to hug me and was a good two inches shorter than I am. CLASSIC. Well, maybe he could be a good friend? I’m always up for good friends!

friend zone

OR NOT, because homeboy spoke in a legitimate WHISPER. M suggested that this was probably just a ploy to get me to lean in close so he could sneak attack me with a kiss. I think this guy was just weird. Like really, I still don’t know whether he’s from Pennsylvania, or Transylvania. When he asked me what my favorite hobby is, I said the name of my college. SPEAK UP, SIR.

Since I couldn’t hear him at all over the din of Fuego, I alternated drinking heavily with telling my own stories and avoiding asking questions at all costs. It was the longest. hour. of. my. life. No, I take that back – waiting for Chinese delivery in college definitely felt longer. But this is up there!


An hour and two margaritas later, we had covered my entire life story, my genealogy, and a thorough synopsis of each Harry Potter book. I NEEDED TO GO. I pulled the “hey sorry I have to get some work done before tomorrow” card, and he paid while I smiled internally for finally being put out of my misery. He walked me back to my apartment building, then set off to the metro while I “got my work done” aka Netflix and chill with myself.

He texted me later that night that he had a great time, and thought I was “really funny.” OF COURSE you had a great time! You essentially got a free ticket to my one-woman show, The Many Personalities of J: Filling Awkward Silences by Any Means Necessary. I did all the work! In fact, if he hadn’t picked up the tab, I would have actually considered sending him a bill.


I politely declined a second date, as I already have a full time job and don’t need a part time gig having conversations with myself for the sake of filling silence.

Thanks for the margarita, though!


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