Mistou and I had been parlaying for a few days. We’d taken it offline after my initial, out-of-the-blue texted invitation. I kinda saw that as a small victory.
Our first phone call started out rocky.
“Let me get this straight,” she said, unable or unwilling to hide her annoyance. “You want our first date to be me flying in to New York to be your plus one at a work dinner?”
“I mean, I’d love to see you,” I said. “And I’d love to take you out on a real date the next night, but I have to go to this dinner on the ‘Thirty-first...” I trailed off.
“And you need to bring a date,” she finished for me.
What could I say? She was right.
“And there’s not one girl in all of New York that you could ask?” she grilled me.
“No,” I said, truthfully. “Not one person. I’m not dating anyone. There’s no one I’m interested in. I’m interested in you. And I know it’s kind of fucked up and a weird ask, but I have to go with someone and you’re the only person I’d like to go with. So, I’m asking you.”
“Hmmm,” she said, giving very little up. But her tone sounded softer.
I waited to hear what was gonna come next.
“Since you started out with this being weird and awkward, let’s continue with that vibe. Why don’t you tell me how you see this all going down? Like, lay out the whole weekend for me.”
“Okay, I can do that,” I replied. “As you can tell. I’m really good at being weird and awkward.”
So, then I laid out my proposal:
I would pay for her and a friend to fly down on Thursday
I’d put them up at the Mercer
We could all have dinner together Thursday, or if they wanted to just chill without me, that was fine, too
They could spend Friday sightseeing and shopping
I’d pick Mistou up for the dinner then we’d go deal with that
Saturday, we could go out to my mother’s- she could cook us up some legim and banan peze, and we could eat in the backyard and chill, Brooklyn-style
OR, if Mistou was comfortable with it, she and her friend could come out to my house and I’d make them bouyon
Then they could fly out Sunday afternoon
And before she could respond, I hurriedly added, “And I know this is not the most romantic offer, and I also don’t you to think that I’m trying to buy you- but I want you to feel comfortable and safe, and I’d really like to have you with me at this stupid dinner thing I have to go to.”
“And meet your mother,” she added in a very slightly teasing tone.
“And my father.”
“Well, I’ll have to think about it,” she said. “Give me a day or two and I’ll let you know.”
“I can’t believe we’ve never discussed this before, but have you ever been to New York?” I asked.
“Once, when I was nine years old,” she said. “My mother took me to see Cats on Broadway, for my birthday.”
“Well, you’re definitely due for another visit.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she replied and we said good-night.
