We had our first date in Hong Kong. He had blue eyes. I had butterflies.
We laughed, we hand held hands, we kissed. Like I said, butterflies.
But, let me start from the beginning…
Last year, I played hooky one day in late October. Don’t judge me. The clouds made me do it. On that day, I impulsively booked a trip to Asia. It ended up being one of those life-changing vacations that make you want to quit your job and go sell coconuts on a beach.
And so, running away from America became an annual tradition/addiction. Last month, the Philippines and Hong Kong (and a bit of Istanbul) called my name. Obviously, it was wonderful. As my friends back home enjoyed the Polar Vortex, I sipped mangotinis on a beach at 9 a.m.
During the Hong Kong portion of my trip, I decided to look for potential dates on Tinder. Well technically, I was searching for someone to enable my alcoholism. What can I say… my liver likes to be spoiled. No one volunteered to sponsor my bad habits, sadly. A few did volunteer to do filthy things to my body. That just seemed unnecessary.
The night before my departure, a boy asked me out for coffee. I said yes, but then spent the next morning reconsidering and wondering if he was a homicidal maniac. Six hours before my flight, my metaphorical testicles finally matured to the point where I could do brazen things like meet up with another human being for coffee.
My date turned out to be charming, educated, funny and very much on the handsome side.
I told my friends that if this happened in NYC, I would’ve stalked him until he surrendered his freedom and became my boyfriend. But actually, if this had been NYC, there wouldn’t have been a date. I would’ve considered a coffee date a non-date, and thus not worth my time. I would’ve postponed and rain-checked until he lost interest. Or, I would’ve deemed his one blurry photo as an indication of some grotesque disfigurement.
Basically, I would’ve found any reason not to go.
If a date did take place, I would’ve greeted him with a long list of pre-determined demerits.
It would’ve ended before it even started.
But since I was on vacation, I didn’t care where — or if — he was employed. I didn’t evaluate him on his grammar. I didn’t measure him against some unrealistic standard. I only required that he be a biped with a heartbeat.
No, this isn’t the beginning of an epic love story. For all I know, he could be an axe-wielding murderer. Or worse, a womanizer. Thankfully, I’ll never find out. He’ll just be cute story I get to tell over happy hour.
My point is: I had a great date because I didn’t over think it. As it turns out, if you expect nothing, everything is a happy surprise.