Last year, I swiped right on someone I knew from my sleep-away camp. I didn’t know him too well, but knew he worked with my sister as co-counselors when I was an older camper. He was attractive, smart, and looked pretty harmless. We matched and began talking. And that’s when I experienced my best summer date ever.
We had made plans to see one another at Smorgasburg SoHo, an outdoor food market in New York. I love outdoor dates in the summertime to take advantage of the sunshine and a nice breeze. Apparently there are scientific benefits to going on outdoor dates in summer, too – the sunshine triggers hormones in the brain that make you happy and amp up your sex drive, according to Michael F. Holick, author of The Vitamin D Solution.
So, yes, the sun was shining, and the temperature wasn’t too warm. We met up on a Sunday afternoon, hugged, and wandered around the market and talking about Harry Potter. He told me about his travels, since he worked for an airline company and could jet off anywhere on stand-by for free. Of course at that point, I was already daydreaming about getting to use that perk and the places we could go together. Am I intense? Yes. Do I claim otherwise? No.
After picking up tacos, he asked if I’d be down to grab a drink at Houston Hall, a nearby bar with craft beers and a cool industrial vibe. Our conversation was going well, I thought he was cute, so I figured why not? Even though I don’t drink much, I love going to Houston Hall, and I’m usually game for a light beer. Because it was a Sunday afternoon at like 3 p.m., we were basically the only ones there. I definitely got tipsy off one beer. It’s fine. Conversation was flowing naturally, he was good-looking – I was into it.
After we finished our drinks, we headed outside and walked around. We wandered over to the Hudson River, and walked along the water. We stopped when there was a section of people dancing on the pier, and we looked over the river. Honestly, it was romantic as hell.
We walked back and said our goodbyes at a subway station in the West Village. I thought the date went well – it lasted several hours and he invited me to see him play the piano at some bar sometime. I texted him that night wishing him luck on his upcoming GMAT test, and said he could let me know when his schedule opens up for us to go out again.
That didn’t happen. I figured we would arrange a time to meet up again in a few weeks, after his test. I left the scheduling in his court to let me know when he was less busy from studying, which I figured was a nice thing to do. I still swiped away on apps and was open to seeing other people, but no romantic prospects popped up during that time.
A few weeks later, on the Jewish holiday Rosh Hashana, I texted him a happy new year. He sent a simple response back, along the lines of, "You too!" In the weeks after that, I heard nothing. I was officially ghosted.
Considering the fact that we know dozens of mutual people, I was pretty damn surprised to be ghosted from this dude. Beside the fact that our date went well in my mind – we had tons to talk about, hung out for a long *ss time, and seemingly had many things in common – the added bonus of us knowing the same people made it even more of a blindside for him to ghost.
But, even though he didn’t have the courage to just say he wasn’t into it for whatever reason, I still think it was a fabulous date. Sure, I never want to go out with him again and do not even want to see him in a friendly way, but that day itself was lovely. And TBH, not every date ends up being something more. The fact that nothing grew out of this one "perfect date" allows it to stand on its own, and I’ll still look back on that single summer day fondly.
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