If anyone were to ask me when the last time I went on a date was, I would say with an awkward chuckle. Not because I haven't been on a date - oh, of course I have! - but because my last date was so... well, let's just say unique.
Like most modern stories, it all started on a dating app. Me, with my best profile picture (taken three years ago, of course), met a woman who claimed to be a foodie. Perfect! I also love to eat. We agreed to meet at an Italian restaurant that she said was authentic.
What I didn't expect was that by "foodie" in her dictionary I meant "professional food vlogger." As soon as the appetizers arrived - simple bruschetta with tomatoes and basil - she pulled out a portable ring light from her bag. Yes, you read that right. A ring light. In a romantic, dimly lit restaurant.
"Hold on," she said cheerfully, setting up her mini studio equipment. "I have to create some content first."
I sat there, fork dangling in the air, while he spoke excitedly into the camera about the “perfect texture of the bread” and the “luscious aroma of basil.” Our waiter, a 20-year veteran, looked like he’d just seen an alien.
When my pasta arrived—a simple spaghetti aglio olio—he insisted I not touch it for a full five minutes. “The angle has to be perfect!” he exclaimed. My pasta was getting cold, as was my enthusiasm.
The icing on the cake was when he asked me to retake my first bite three times because, in his words, “my expression of pleasure was not natural.”
You know what was the funniest thing? In the midst of all the chaos, I found myself laughing. Not a mocking laugh, but a genuine laugh. There was something endearing about the seriousness with which he explained the importance of proper lighting for a plate of tiramisu.
We never saw each other again, but he sent me a link to his vlog. And yes, I have to admit, it was good. Even if I looked like an awkward extra who didn’t know what to do with my hands.
Since then, every time I see someone taking a picture of their food at a restaurant, I smile a little. At least they didn’t bring a ring light, I think. And whenever my friends complain about their bad dates, I always have a story to cheer them up.
It may not have ended in a diamond ring, but at least I got a good story — and technically, I did appear on YouTube. Even if it’s just as “the awkward guy who can’t eat pasta naturally” at the 3:47 mark.
So do I regret it? Not really. Because sometimes, the “failed” dates give us the best stories. And isn’t life all about collecting stories?
Besides, I now know one thing: if someone lists “foodie” on their dating profile, I have to make sure their definition of “foodie” is the same as mine — someone who just wants to eat in peace, without having to make a mini-documentary of every bite.
[Image generated by Meta AI!]