I picked up pho last night after a less than stellar date, and brought it back to the apartment. My roommate was out on a date of her own, and I was happy to settle in on the couch, and watch Conan by myself. I poured the pho into a sauce pan, because my bowls aren’t big enough to fit the broth, the lump of rice noodles, slices of beef and the fresh herbs and jalepenos that come along with it. I built it, adding the little packet of sriracha, squeezed the lime, dropped in the sprouts. I was all too familiar with this ritual. I slurped the noodles and practiced making the noise, that I’ve heard is polite in parts of Asia, and I made a note to Google which parts of Asia. I got towards the end of the pho and thought, fuck it no one’s around, and brought the sauce pan to my lips and drank the broth, not entirely making it all into my mouth. I was ok with half of it spilling onto my tshirt. There was freedom in the sloppiness.
That’s when my roommate came back with her date, and there I was, sweatpants on, noodle accroutrements all over the coffee table, broth all over my shirt. What are they doing here? “Sorry I just came back to grab my wallet. How was it?” She asked “It was ok, I’ve had better pho, so I probably won’t go back to that place.” I am a bit of a pho connoissuer, if I do say so myself. “No, the date.” Her date stood in the doorway and waited for her. As he took in the apartment, I felt even more on display. I could have invited him in, but I was too caught up in my own embarrasment to remember to be polite.
“I don’t know what happened, we were having a beer, talking, conversation was fine, and then I went to the bathroom, and that’s where I realized just how BORED I was.” I explained. “I went on the date because I wanted to meet someone, and I left the date happy to be alone.” “Oh well that’s good!” She wasn’t listening. “I’ll see you later!”
I’m not really sure what happened, or why I did a 180 in the middle of the date. This was a guy I met on OK Cupid, and we’d been on one date already. He’s cute, our conversations never really lacked, and we were an 87% match, so I said yes to a second.
When we got to the bar, there were miraculously two seats at the end of a crowded bar, so we settled in. I thought it was kind of lucky to find two seats considering how packed the bar was, and then 14 people shouted in our faces. I looked up and saw we were right under the tv, and some football game was on. So as we got into our date, we were periodically interrupted with cheers and boos in our faces. The game eventually ended, and the bar cleared out a little. I took it in. I liked this place, which is probably why I picked it. It is a cosy space with red walls, white lights, leather booths, and black framed headshots lining the walls. Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole played over the speakers. I thought it was all a little romantic, everything in the room worked with each other, the couples talking closely, the music, the decoration. It kind of felt like a scene of a movie. I was sinking into a cosy little buzz, feeling like just outside the door awaited a snowy winter wonderland, and not a Target.
“This music is depressing.” My date said, and maybe that was the point I went off him. I’m not sure. I just know that after an hour or so, I went to the bathroom, and by the time I got back, I was overcome with boredom. The whole spell was broken. Let’s call the whole thing off.
Back at my apartment, I began surfing OK Cupid, at this point just for entertainment. It’s fun to see what people put in their profiles, and compare everyone’s similarities. Does anyone out there not like 'Breaking Bad'? I started to realise online dating may never work for me, because no matter how high of a percentage match me and a potential soulmate are, I know it will all inevitably come down to something that you can’t quantify. Some people make you want to explore every corner of the earth together, and some people make you want to curl up on the couch alone, and until OK Cupid can come up with an algorithm to measure that, I think I’ll just date the old fashioned way…Do you guys know anyone?
Maria Shehata is a comedian and writer for 'My Super Overactive Imagination' and lives in Los Angeles, you can visit her site HERE!
Watch the first trailer for Season 2 of My Super Overactive Imagination here!
