I have complained before about repeat speed dates not remembering me. But this guy and I had been on an actual full-length date that he seemed to have forgotten when we met again on a recent night of speed dating.
Granted, it wasn’t that great of a date. (Ok, if you must know, he was the less appealing of the speed dating brothers.) And since I had turned him down for a second date, you’d think I’d be glad he had blocked the memory. Ordinarily, I would have been, but there was a magical spark that night. It just happened to be between me and a pool table.
I have always wanted to be one of those cool, laid-back girls who can hustle guys at pool. Unfortunately, I suck. As in, I not infrequently miss the cue ball altogether.
But that night I was on fire. I don’t know if it was a perfect mix of beer and wings in my system, or the calm of knowing I didn’t want to date this guy again so I didn’t have to impress him, but I was truly good at pool for once in my life. It was like the night I bowled a 123, except my mom wasn’t there to make a big sign and take a picture of me with it.
Sadly, there’s no evidence at all of my pool triumph, I know now that I’ve re-met my date. I mean, I didn’t ask him outright, but if the whole night has disappeared from his faulty memory, it seems unlikely that my amazing game stuck. I knew I should have bought myself a trophy.