I’m going to preface this by saying I truly wish I was making it up.

I set myself up on a blind date with a beautiful, foreign, twenty-something man last weekend after meeting him at a bar. And by meeting, I mean, chatting for two seconds while waiting for friends, leaving, then going back into the bar to pull a stunt I had abandoned since freshman year of college. I was a few drinks into my evening, and he had been amiable during our little chat before…

“I’m really sorry, I never do this–” (blatant lie… it’s just been awhile) “–but I’d really like to see you again. Could I get your number?”

Why, yes, he said, I could. High five, self! Confidence, boosted.

We ultimately decided to meet for drinks the following weekend. Why did it have to be that weekend? Oh, because of course he was MOVING TO EUROPE the following week. The night I met him had been his going away party.

Naturally, the first date I’ve been on in months would have no potential to go anywhere. But he was hot, and I thoroughly enjoyed that accent. This was a pressure-free situation, and he showed up in a suit. Screw Europe. Europe had nothing on my evening out with this guy.

Things were great… and then came a random man who approached and started chatting Date up, gesturing to me and asking, “That your girlfriend?”

Awkward. Read More »