Date or Die: The Every Down Back

In football, there are usually two extremes for the running back position. On one side you have a power running back, sometimes referred to an every down back. This guy tends to be bigger than other running backs and basically always gets 3-4 yards. He wearing down his opponent and eventually being able to make a bigger play. On the other extreme, there are these “change of pace” backs, sometimes considered a scat back; he is usually quicker and smaller than the back on the other extreme. He can basically get by people with his speed and break bigger plays. Unfortunately, he tends to take less punishment. Teams occasionally try to have complimentary guys on their team to keep defenses guessing. The every down back might need a breather so the change of pace back comes in and blows by some tired defenders.
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I have always considered myself a power back, able to carry a big load, take the hits and keep coming, eventually wearing some poor woman down. In this analogy my left handed draper is essentially a good stiff arm.

Umm…We are in danger of over-extending this metaphor so I am just going to move on to my point. Sunday, I went on a 6 hour brunch date. This was not my plan so I was not ready. I did not even have my pads on (ok I’ll stop). Normally, brunch is easy. You sit down, you reference the NY Times, eat some eggs, discuss David Gregory vs. George Stephanopolus and you stick your tongue down her mouth. Easy peasy.

Not in this case, this girl makes everything hard. Our first date was like a month ago. We went for drinks at the Modern. She got loaded and I was in the middle of experimenting with sobriety so I got to watch. Which is fun, watching is fun, watching is so fun that I needed to go home and hide and sulk. Meanwhile, before I could regroup she ran off to LA for what was like 2 weeks. Conflicting schedules and a busy workload on both our parts left us trying to have brunch this past Sunday. Normally, I would categorize a second date brunch as a bad sign and usually not worth my time. Only problem is, we kept emailing while she was with her family in LA. Truth is, I went from thinking she was ok to ‘desperately wanting to hold her hand’. I put it in quotes because I actually told this to catjjy using these exact words without realizing it till after I said it.

So I was cautious but hopeful. I was reassured when she phoned me. She was pumped but lost. I gave her some directions. She laughed heartily. As soon as she met me she mentioned to me that she usually enjoyed going to a very specific bar on Sunday afternoons, she thought it would be fun if after brunch we walk from Chelsea to Tribeca and get a few drinks there. She chided me for doing work while I waited for her. Suddenly I was emboldened. Brunch was awesome.

During our walk, she goofed on me endlessly. I had met her at the birthday party for a 1 year old and I admitted that I was friends with the child’s mother from university. I also admitted always found her husband a bit awkward and rejected his overtures of friendship a few years earlier

“Another bromance done in by mild homophobia” she smirked for a solid two blocks. The cheery mood was broken the second I admitted that the west village was hard for me to navigate and I was no longer convinced we were moving south.

Our conversation had to this point been sort of perfect, rapid fire, casual, snappy. It was like something out of Gilmore Girls. We were two hours in, and though still going strong, I noticed I was low on material. Remember, it was supposed to be David Gregory to *ssplay in four easy steps. Unfortunately, the sun was still out (stupid brunch) and I just was not sure the kids playing in the park we cut through needed to see a poorly executed draper. Screw that, I’m an every down running back! I can make this happen.

Once we got to the bar, I was happy about it. The music was cool, and the DJ was fly. The windows were open. There was an off beat crowd, a few hipsters trying to hard, and a couple of brothers chilling in the corner. Just my scene…it reminded me of a post millennial BBQ in Brooklyn.

The better news was that she was actually a regular at this bar. The bartender was getting us drinks and very attentive even as models had to stand around waiting for someone to take their orders. She even knew a few other regulars, not well enough for them to matter but well enough to be part of a conversation. It came out that one was a hip hop photographer. I found myself in a rather involved conversation on mid 90s hip hop where we discussed the merits of the Luniz and took opposing positions on which was the better Pharcyde album (for the record I enjoyed Labcabincalifornia and our new friend took Bizarre ride to the…) . I was convinced this would impress anyone of color from LA. This also gave me what I needed most, more material as I tried to make it to the end.

By this point, I was full on drunk. While I was not paying attention some dude tried to make a play at my date. Who did this erkle looking motherf*cker think he was? Offended, I took the opportunity to dress him down. For those of you who don’t know, I grew up in the Black section of a predominately Hispanic community. I know how to make fun of people. Further, I know how to goad others into piling on. Before I knew it, there was 3-4 cats were hurling mocking comments at this dude. Hey, there’s my offensive line. It got so bad I bought him a drink. I am magnanimous in victory. I had officially run out of stuff to talk about, I knew when she brought up “The Real Housewives of New York City” Not knowing what to do I tracked down Erkle and encouraged him to go hit on a model across the way. A desperate move no doubt, but hilarious and worth an addition ten minutes of laughter, she had a surprising mean streak, awesome. Stil, this had turned from awesome chippy conversation bliss of earlier in the day to some bizarre multi-ethnic transgender Mean Girls. I needed to get out of here before things got worse.

I had planted a seed early that I needed to go home and do work. I even had a laptop with me. She agreed it was a good idea to part ways. She reassured me with a smile and promised a Thursday dinner. Progress, slow deliberate progress but progress. No touchdowns, just racking up a lot yards.