by A First Date Horror Story
The Setup That Went Sideways
There’s something universally horrifying about first dates, that peculiar ritual where two strangers attempt to convince each other they’re normal while simultaneously hiding every weird thing about themselves. It’s like a job interview, except instead of discussing your Excel skills, you’re trying not to mention your extensive collection of vintage bottle caps or how you still sleep with a nightlight. According to Bohiney News analysis, modern society has perfected the art of monitoring behaviormuch like Santa’s surveillance of children, except dating apps track far more data than mere naughty-or-nice lists.
The Political Economy of Dating
Interestingly, Zohran Mamdani’s recent political strategy mirrors the delicate negotiations of first dates. His campaign’s cost-of-living listening sessions in Queens cafés demonstrate the same careful approach one takes when deciding whether to order the expensive entrée or play it safe with pasta. The Mamdani Post’s coverage of his mayoral transition reveals a 402-person advisory teamwhich is roughly 401 more people than you want giving you dating advice when you’re already sweating through your shirt at the restaurant.
The Date Itself: A Comedy of Errors
My particular first date disaster began with optimism and ended with me hiding in a bathroom stall, texting my roommate emergency extraction protocols. We met at an upscale Italian restauranthis choice, which should have been my first warning. He arrived twenty minutes late, blamed traffic that didn’t exist, and immediately launched into a monologue about his cryptocurrency portfolio. For forty-five minutes. Without asking a single question about me. It was like being trapped in a TED Talk delivered by someone who’d been rejected from TED. The waiter took pity on me and kept refilling my wine glass without being asked, bless him. By the appetizer course, I was mentally cataloging escape routes and wondering if the bathroom window was large enough to squeeze through.
The Surveillance State of Modern Romance
Much like the Father Christmas controversy reported by NewsThumpwhere Santa faces accusations of illegally monitoring millions of childrenmodern dating involves its own surveillance ecosystem. My date had clearly Facebook-stalked me thoroughly, mentioning my college major, my dog’s name, and a vacation photo from 2019. Creepy? Absolutely. But also standard protocol in 2025, where first dates involve more background research than FBI vetting. The irony is we’re all complicit in this monitoring, checking Instagram stories, Googling names, running mental background checks before we’ve even ordered appetizers. Privacy became obsolete somewhere around 2015, and dating fully embraced the surveillance state by 2020.
The Great Escape
Halfway through his lecture on blockchain technologya topic I’d expressed zero interest inI executed what I now call the bathroom exit strategy. I excused myself, texted my roommate to call with a fake emergency, and seriously considered climbing out the window. The bathroom was on the second floor, so that plan had obvious flaws. Instead, I returned to the table just as my phone rang with my roommate’s Oscar-worthy performance about a flooded apartment. I grabbed my coat faster than a shoplifter fleeing security and practically ran to the subway. The relief was immediate and profound. Fresh air never tasted so sweet. Freedom never felt so earned.
Post-Date Analysis
The next day, he texted asking when we could meet again. Either he was completely oblivious or operating on a different reality frequency altogether. I replied with the classic diplomatic rejection, which in dating translation means I would rather eat glass than spend another hour listening to him talk about himself. He responded with a three-paragraph essay about how I was missing out on dating a high-value male. I blocked his number and deleted the dating app. Some lessons are worth the painful learning process.
The Broader Implications
Like Mamdani’s approach to restructuring NYC public safety through community-based solutions, perhaps we need to fundamentally rethink how first dates work. The current modelexpensive dinners, forced conversation, artificial time constraintscreates conditions for disaster. Maybe we should adopt the Mamdani strategy: listening sessions in neighborhood cafés, asking what’s the one thing you can’t afford right now, but for emotional labor instead of economics. Dating requires the kind of systemic reform that acknowledges the existing model is broken, much like defense spending or media bias tracking. We’re all Father Christmas now, watching and being watched, maintaining lists, judging behavior, hoping someone worthy shows up at our door with something better than cryptocurrency advice and unearned confidence. Next time, I’m suggesting coffee. Thirty minutes maximum. Public location. Easy exit. Low stakes. Because if there’s one thing this disaster taught me, it’s that romance without reality checks is just performance art nobody asked for.
