I hate coffee dates. I mean, I really, really hate them. With the very rare exception of coffee dates initiated by Abercrombie models, sun-bleached surfers, and European soccer players, then nope, I don’t want to be on one.
Especially not with you, kid from my small-to-the-point-of-intimate English class. You, sir, took advantage of my niceness and the fact that I have to see you every other day through the rest of the semester, to corner me into wasting time with you. You knew I couldn’t say no. That would be awkward.
But it’s awkward either way! Now we’ve gone and made small talk over where we’re from and what we study and we’ve discovered there’s no chemistry. Maybe you weren’t on the same page, though.
Maybe that’s why you tried to be cutesy and pick a snowball fight by rubbing a hunk of ice into my wool jacket. Forcefully. Believe it or not, when I said, “No. Don’t do that.” I was not being cutesy in return!
But I can see how you’d be confused. I am the one who agreed, after all, to pay for tea (I don’t even like coffee) that I could have brewed at home, and for time that can not be refunded — all to spend an hour with you. Please, don’t take that the right way.
Belated new years resolution: learn to say no.
SO TRUE. Classic example of why I am a proud member of the, ahem, facebook group ‘I Pretend To Text In Awkward Situations’.
Maybe I am too keen on meeting people over cocktails, and yes, maybe I do specialize in making bloody awful decisions, but goddamnit coffee dates lost their allure and relevance once the ‘and cigarettes’ bit got deleted and cafe society became defined by bloggers, laptops, moleskines, and commercialized chain java. Yes, these are all - in and of themselves - perfectly fine… but goddamnit not on DATES.
Besides… Coffee? Ha. I require something much stronger.
Or at least my poor date certainly will, god help him.