New York, New York, Ole!
by Sue Choe (NJ)
Despite my other dating fiascos, I have always had surprisingly good luck with blind dates. The first yielded a rollicking good time at my 11th grade Homecoming Dance; the second resulted in a really sweet boyfriend, and the third-which occurred only last week through this esteemed publication-led to a very pleasant evening at an intimate Mexican restaurant near Newbury Street. For those of you who enjoy dating vicariously through this column, here’s the low-down on that night:
After being set up by AuntieG, the matchmaking goddess, I was a bit nervous that David would back out of the whole deal after studying my classcard and/or hearing from others about my flighty personality. Later, I learned that he did ZERO investigation into me. I, however, launched a full-scale investigation into his background. Using any and all available resources-classcards, friends, Google (just kidding-that would be crazy…um, right?)-I determine that he was apparently a “great catch.” Things sounded pretty good so far.
David called me the night before The Date, and we agreed to meet in Morris Lounge. His voice was a bit gruff, and I worried-for the hundredth time-that the evening would turn out to be a disaster.
You can see for yourself what David looks like in the picture we took together at the restaurant. Very tall, great bone structure, well-dressed, well-spoken with a hint of a Southern twang, classy-a perfect gentleman. But the trait I liked best was that he is a Planner-the role I usually assume by default-and had researched and made reservations at Casa Romero in Boston.
I’m trying to think of something less positive to say about David, but I’m at a loss. I apologize that this article is getting a bit dull-there’s nothing like a little dirt or gossip to make a story spicier-but things honestly went so smoothly. For some scary reason, we ended up in an animated discussion about who had a better Finance professor-my vote is still with Mihir Desai. Perhaps we have just mastered the art of social conversation during our three months at HBS, or maybe…we’re made for each other?
Well, that part’s clearly not true. First off, it turns out that we are both seeing people in New York-coincidentally, my boyfriend is the guy I met during my second blind date. We established that right away, defusing upfront any tensions. Second, although he is a fantastic guy, he doesn’t seem to have the quirky eccentricity that I seek. (Am I revealing too much about myself here?) David is the kind of guy I would love to have as a friend-steady, strong, and ethical. But what do I know about his true personality? I only spent about 2.5 hours with him before he politely bid me adieu on the steps of Spangler, and went off for more drinking excitement with his section.
So the evening was far from a disaster, but I have a sneaking suspicion that The Date will not lead to much more than an occasional hello and a knowing grin. Maybe even a wink, if one of us is feeling a little frisky
New York, New York (Again)
by David Schlendorf (NH)
I had never met Sue before last Tuesday night so this was to be a true blind date. A friend of Sue’s gave me two pieces of advice: don’t wear blue jeans and try not to act too American. Alas, my trusty first date outfit-Levi’s and Tommy Hilfiger rugby shirt-was out. I thought I would keep the date pretty traditional because the thought that people on campus would be reading this article actually did occur to me. Sue and I met in the Morris Hall commons room since it turns out we both live there. It was a little comical because an a cappella group was in the middle of their rehearsal of “Blue Moon” as we met. In the movies this could have been romantic. In this case it was just a bit awkward.
Although the initial meeting was awkward, Sue is very personable and we soon fell into easy conversation. Sue is also very direct-it took her all of about 30 seconds to figure out that I had not memorized her classcard and to give me hell for this.
Things were going well until we arrived at the restaurant. Stupidly, I chose a Mexican restaurant. I thought this was a great plan since all my Mexican friends repeatedly tell me that Mexico is very much part of America. Of course, ten minutes into dinner Sue confessed that she hated Mexican food.
In my defense, this was not just some taco joint. We went to Casa Romero, which, according to Zagat’s is “a Latin lair of love tucked away in an alley in the Back Bay [serving] authentic Mexican fare.” It’s actually a pretty cool little place but not that happening on a Tuesday evening. The menu is eclectic, the service is attentive-of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that we represented about 50% of the clientele-and the food is good-assuming you actually like Mexican food.
The other confession Sue made ten minutes into dinner was that she had recently met a guy in New York for whom she has the hots. OK, so she didn’t quite use those exact words, but her point was clear. This, however, was in fact quite fortuitous, because I was trying to find a way to work into the conversation the fact that I had recently developed a “thing” for a woman in New York. Since at this point the date portion of the evening was over we were both able to relax and just have a good time. For those of you who do not know Sue, take the time to track her down. She is a very cool woman and definitely worth getting to know.
