Your Quest: Go on a Date During a Global Pandemic

Please Raise Your Hand If You Would Just Prefer an Arranged Marriage at This Point

*^trying to gracefully maneuver your way out of a conversation after you nervously brought up your childhood traumas and deepest insecurities*

Congratulations! Some guy on Bumble swept you off your feet with the ever-romantic and grandiose display of chivalry, “We should hang out sometime.”Do you accept this quest?

A. You respond: “Sounds great, let me know when and where!”

B. You respond: “I actually just started to get a dry cough and I want to be safe so maybe we should wait a few days to see how this pans out.”

If you choose A, go on to the next question. If you choose B, you just bought yourself about 14 days of solitude from this charmer. Celebrate by ordering yourself a Pad Thai dinner-for-four, start “Ozark” from the beginning, and slowly disappear into enveloping darkness. You just avoided a very challenging quest!

You choose A.

He tells you that you can pick the place, as this is his apparent silent solidarity with the feminist movement. You remember that we are in the face of a global pandemic and breeze his profile again just to make sure that if this is the man who inadvertently kills you, via covid or straight murder, it was worth it. 5’3″, unemployed, serpent tattoo on his neck, hairline starting halfway up his head and tailing off in a mid-back ponytail, has a samurai sword in 3/5 photos, but he tested positive for Covid antibodies. Let you not forget, you haven’t had human contact in 6 months. He follows up with a text about not wearing masks, then jokes that he’d rather not use protection, quickly followed up by a winky face.

A. You note that he’s liberal from his profile so type that you want to put it on the table that you’re a vocal Trump supporter and will that be an issue

B. You take a shot of tequila and tell him 8pm at a Mexican place that’s a block from both a police precinct and a Sbarro.

If you choose A, you never hear from him again. Pour yourself a large cocktail and sit content in your sweet, sweet air conditioned apartment If you choose B, wait you’re actually choosing B, you and you apparent poor judgment and lack of stranger danger can go onto the next question.

You choose B

10 minutes into the conversation he tells you that he’s a furloughed member of the ensemble from the hit Broadway musical, ‘Cats’. He goes on a 25 minute monologue about how hard it is to readapt to a civilian existence, and in a seeming epiphany as he stares off into the distance, he tells you about how he spent two nights on the streets after an eviction and gained a newfound appreciation for his character’s plight.

A. You down your entire margarita and promptly order another while a homeless person pees on the sidewalk next to your table. Sweat drips down your back and thighs, because even though it’s 9pm, it’s still 92 degrees outside and the humidity is hovering at about 80%.

B. You get up and walk away. Your suffocatingly engrained Catholic guilt will haunt you for years over this one but once the karma wears off, you’ll be right in the hunt for men on their second marriages.

If you choose A, wow…go on to the next question. If you choose B, you go into 7-11, get 10 buffalo chicken rollers, sit on the edge of a sidewalk, and call your mom just to “say hi” but that quickly unravels to you sobbing and inaudibly questioning your self-worth and apologizing for not giving her grandchildren, which then prompts her to sob in unison.

You choose A

Excuse me, red flags? Have you not listened to any Middle America True Crimes podcasts?

After his third tropical cocktail, which has enough blue curaçao to make him eligible for a singles cruise to Sandals booked through Groupon, he lets you split the bill. You get up to leave, you’re praying he puts his mask back on and walks in the opposite direction of the Sbarro – but neither happens. He stops you right in front of a brightly lit pawn shop and leans in as he reaches up to take your mask off.

A. You severely twist your ankle maneuvering out of this situation then run into oncoming traffic towards Sbarro.

B. You repeat to yourself “You need this” and let it happen, full knowing this will lead to weeks of self-loathing.

If you choose A, limp into Sbarro, get four slices, then text every ex you can think of. If you choose B for some reason we can’t understand, your unapologetic biological desires take over as your maternal clock is screaming at you but this is still inexcusable.

You choose B

You do not pass go. You do not collect $200. You actually probably catch Covid, or a cold that mimics Covid and turns you into a social leper for two weeks, forcing you to sit alone and think about your life decisions for 14 days straight.

Seeing that DiBlasio restricted to-go drinks and still has indoor dining on pause because he’s single handedly trying to ruin New York, those of us who are trying to grab a quick cocktail with a date, a friend, or a client without engaging in a full three course meal are seeing the options shrink. But no fear, as your resident dive bar specialist, here are my favorite spots that haven’t shuttered, aren’t white table cloth, and will let you get away with a basket of fries to pair with your endless cocktails:

Bar Belly @ 14 Orchard Street in the LES