Education? My date don't need no education...
When she arrived at the bar fifteen minutes late it didn’t bother me. I had been looking forward to meeting up with her for a few weeks. We had met through mutual friends during a night of drinking, then weren’t able to connect because it was the holidays and she was in Maryland with family. It was the first week of January and were finally having drinks and maybe dinner on the Upper East Side. She sat at the table and I asked if she wanted dinner. She had already eaten, but she was ok if I ordered food. Oh no, it’s cool, I don’t need to eat (because if I do, you’ll probably see what a disgusting animal I am and that will be the end of this). Just getting drinks sounds great to me (maybe we’ll tongue kiss, hopefully fornicate, but realistically, I’ll get really drunk because I have an empty stomach and drool on the table).
As the conversation began to flow, I noticed she said “like” a lot in between words, and her voice sounded similar to my ex-girlfriend’s. My ex was not endowed in the brains department (I once said something was a pseudo-science. She answered seriously, “Pseudo? What’s that - a Japanese word.”), but I’m sure this was different. And if not, whatever, she’s super hot, I’m a guy, and only have one thing on my mind anyways…Did I DVR Dancing with the Stars tonight?...I mean sex…sex was on my mind. I totally wanted to touch her vagina. I was not thinking about Karina and Maksim’s disintegrating relationship.
The drinks kept coming and soon I started talking about my Aunt Cheryl’s annual Chanukah/Christmas party (there are both Jews and Christians on this side of the family). I mentioned that my 11-year-old cousin, who’s Catholic, made some strange remarks, and I think he might be an anti-Semite. She said, “What’s that?”
Get the fuck out of here. You’re kidding right. “Umm, it’s someone who hates Jews.”
“Oh. Never heard of that before.” They don’t teach history in Baltimore?
“Oh...ok. It’s a pretty common term. Sometimes it’s associated with the Holocaust and the Nazis.”
“Ohhh, right, the resignation, like, of the Jews.” I think she meant termination of the Jews.
So here’s the thing, I was drunk enough (re: shallow) to look past that. I really, really wanted see her naked…at least I’m honest. We kept drinking and I was fading to black. I thought she made a comment about touching her breasts, but I could’ve imagined that. I also thought she was playing footsie with me under the table, but she might’ve been having spasms. I couldn’t get a good read. We left the bar and I offered to pay for her taxi to go home. I thought she said something about coming home with me. I asked her to repeat. She said she would just take the train. Samsonite, I was way off. I told her I’d walk her to it.
On the walk, I think we were dancing along the sidewalk. Two guys, one black, the other Hispanic, walked passed us. I started doing the Harlem Shake in front of them, asking them what they thought. My date started grabbing my arm, pulling me over to her, pleading with me to stop. “Don’t worry, I’m from the Bronx baby,” I said.
The two guys maybe laughed, rolled their eyes, and then strutted down the street. My moves had inspired them. She turned to me and said, “You have to be careful, you just, like, don’t know what darkies will do.”
Yes. You read that right.
At the subway, she said she had fun and thanked me. I told her I was going to be a priest, tonight was my last night before I joined the seminary, made a cross over her body, kissed her on the head, and said “God bless you my child.” Then I ate pepperoni pizza in my twin bed.