I went out on my first date since the break-up a few nights ago. It was a Monday, and I had taken the day off from work. I had gotten home late the night before from a weekend trip to Philly for a family reunion of sorts (more about THAT in another post.) I had the next few days off from work because I was scheduled for surgery on Tuesday AM. When I woke up on Monday, I thought – maybe I should take today as a “mental health day” and get into the right frame of mind for my date. I do not know if this was a good idea or not, because I spent most of the day reading and eating chips and chocolate. By the time I made it to meet my date, I was in the mood for a real meal, but figured a drink beforehand could not hurt, especially a Guinness, since that is like a meal onto itself. And anyway, if my date and I did not really dig each other, it would not be too painful to call it quits after one drink.
Big mistake. One pint turned into three. By then, I was like “I need some pizza” but date had to go home to get up early at 5AM. I thought “ok, I can get some pizza on my way home, it is still early.” But then date and I decided to walk to my train station. And then we kissed good-bye, and kissed some more. And then, I fainted and busted open my chin.
This is by far the most mortifying thing that has ever happened to me on a first date. And I am a 38-year-old woman.
The next morning, I had my eye surgery. I had a bandage on my chin, and then a swollen eye. I now look like something out of Fight Club. Except this is not a movie. This is my very real life.
I wonder if date and I will hang out again, without any gashes or wounds ensuing. We have set tentative plans for Friday.