And you shrug and you say...
Valentine’s Day. Dinner with my boyfriend, at a restaurant I used to frequent with my girlfriend. Weird? I don’t know. Guess there’s just something about the place that makes me want to share it with the people I love.
The walk to our table—a snapshot of Valentine’s Day in New York: couple after couple of every size, shape, and stripe. Happy looking boys and girls, in every possible combination of the two. Sigh. Warms the heart on an otherwise freezing and messy night.
A cozy table, two seats across from each other, large wine glasses in between. A complimentary (and unexpected) pour of a sparkling rosé, crisp and refreshing. Something bubbly’s always nice.
A glance to my right. A glance to my left. And…holy shit! Guess I’m not the only one who likes to share this place with the people I love!
“Um, hi. Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow… Hi.”
She’s with a guy. Funny, so am I. She sees I’ve been eyeing her companion, as she’s been doing to mine.
“X this is Y, Y this is X. He’s my boyfriend. She was my girlfriend.”
“…”
Awkward. I don’t want to run away from this situation, but at the same time, this is not the time or the place. At best, it will lead to an awkward and uncomfortable meal; at worst, well, who knows. But none of us really want an awkward and uncomfortable meal on this night of all nights, regardless of how little this Hallmark holiday actually “means” to any one of us.
“Look, it’s cool running into you and all, and I’d totally be open to catching up sometime… But I’m thinking that right now, it might be best if we just request another table and go about our respective meals. Whaddaya think?”
“Yeah. That’d probably be best.”
Standing up, “Ok, well, it was…good seeing you.”
“Yeah. You too. Good…seeing you.”
“Let’s catch up sometime.”
”Ok, yeah. Let’s.”
The gathering of coats, the blatant absence of an exchange of contact information.
The cordial nod of my head.
The walk to another table.
The feeling of running away.
The walk to our table—a snapshot of Valentine’s Day in New York: couple after couple of every size, shape, and stripe. Happy looking boys and girls, in every possible combination of the two. Sigh. Warms the heart on an otherwise freezing and messy night.
A cozy table, two seats across from each other, large wine glasses in between. A complimentary (and unexpected) pour of a sparkling rosé, crisp and refreshing. Something bubbly’s always nice.
A glance to my right. A glance to my left. And…holy shit! Guess I’m not the only one who likes to share this place with the people I love!
“Um, hi. Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow… Hi.”
She’s with a guy. Funny, so am I. She sees I’ve been eyeing her companion, as she’s been doing to mine.
“X this is Y, Y this is X. He’s my boyfriend. She was my girlfriend.”
“…”
Awkward. I don’t want to run away from this situation, but at the same time, this is not the time or the place. At best, it will lead to an awkward and uncomfortable meal; at worst, well, who knows. But none of us really want an awkward and uncomfortable meal on this night of all nights, regardless of how little this Hallmark holiday actually “means” to any one of us.
“Look, it’s cool running into you and all, and I’d totally be open to catching up sometime… But I’m thinking that right now, it might be best if we just request another table and go about our respective meals. Whaddaya think?”
“Yeah. That’d probably be best.”
Standing up, “Ok, well, it was…good seeing you.”
“Yeah. You too. Good…seeing you.”
“Let’s catch up sometime.”
”Ok, yeah. Let’s.”
The gathering of coats, the blatant absence of an exchange of contact information.
The cordial nod of my head.
The walk to another table.
The feeling of running away.
posted by P/O at 2/16/2007 03:54:00 PM
4 Comments:
uh. Wow. That is...yeah.
It reminds me of a story I suppose I should tackle in my blog now, whereby the roommate of one of my best friends got engaged and, when I went to his apartment for a little party which they would be attending, discovered the fiance was the last girl I dated before I came out.
Awkward sort of begins to touch on it.
New York = Mayberry
I'd make a more insightful observation, but I'm busy seething with jealousy that you had a girlfriend and it WASN'T ME.
That's a Classic!
Ha! That's the best V-day story I've heard this year.
I just found out that Singles Awareness Day, Feb. 15th, is the same day as my ex-anniversary! All these years -- who knew? Could not have planned that better myself.
I will definitely be celebrating that irony next V-day season.
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