Little Talks Part 34: Do You Remember Our First Date?

The 34th in a series of short stories about a relationship starring a fictional couple who live rent-free in Scott’s head.

“Do you remember our first date?” she asks during another date, the number of which I have absolutely no clue. We’ve gone on many in a year’s time — though not as many as many newish couples do, as I have a slight aversion to leaving the house and often look at it as more of an unnecessary inconvenience than a potentially good time. This hasn’t been that much of a point of contention just yet, but I can see it becoming one — something I fear she brings up at least semi-often to her friends and family as not exactly a green flag or a sustainable way to conduct a relationship. I often concoct in my head what’s being said about me in her various group chats. This is narcissistic, sure, but that doesn’t make it something I don’t do.

Tonight’s the anniversary of said first date, and we’ve returned to the hotel bar where it took place, which came about after an appropriate amount of semi-witty banter on one of the dating apps from my iPhone folder titled “Don’t Die Alone.” We’re celebrating this anniversary because there’s really no other anniversary to celebrate that we can pinpoint. There wasn’t a night when we “made things official” or anything like that. The closest we came was when we had a discussion about my finally deleting my “Don’t Die Alone” folder. Or maybe it was the time when she revealed to me that after many months she had finally saved my number into her contacts. Though I have not made note of those dates, except maybe in my journal, which I never go back and read.

I was new in town then and didn’t really know a good date spot, so I did what I almost always do when I’m flummoxed: I consulted the internet and found a place that would serve its purpose. I’m not the best at planning a date, because I’m easy and don’t want for much. I just want a bar to sit at with the person who has agreed to spend some of their free time with me, one that’s not too loud where we can have a conversation without screaming at each other. Because I feel as though screaming at each other is far from the best way to start what may become a lasting monogamous relationship.