Some Bar Off The Fulton Stop

He was in the bathroom and she found herself wishing that this was a bad date, and feeling oddly thankful for the few bad dates that she had had. This date was decidedly not bad, and he was clearly not a bad person. This date was okay. They had enough in common. The equation added up and was even balanced. Things were fine.

“You can write on the wall in there,” he said as he returned and immediately took a swig of his pretentiously named IPA as if the trip to the bathroom had made him thirsty. “I guess maybe enough people write on the wall of bathrooms anyway that they made the walls chalk walls and then give you chalk to write with.”

“Huh.” Really? This is what we’re talking about?

“Chalk boards. I meant to say chalk boards.” Okay. This is what we’re talking about.

“What would a chalk wall be?” she said, not caring enough to hear the answer but trying to demonstrate that she could be caring. She sipped on her drink that was mostly water. It was something to do.

“What?” he said.

“You said ‘chalk wall’ you know, and I was just wondering what a chalk wall would be. Like how it would be different from a chalk board. It’s not that interesting.”

“I wonder why people write on the walls of bathrooms?” he asked. “Probably because it’s the one place everyone goes and there’s nothing else to do but read what’s around you.”

“There are no cameras in the bathroom.”

“What?” Exactly. WHAT? Why would you say something like that?

“Hopefully.” Really making things better.

“Yeah. That’d be creepy,” he said.

“So you’re going to Berlin in August? That’s fun. I’ve never been,” she said, still thinking about cameras in bathrooms.

“No. I’m not.”

“Really? I thought you were.”

“No.” No is right. That had been another UX/UI designer that lived in Brooklyn.

Maybe she was getting her wish. Maybe this whole thing was turning. She sipped on her drink. Air.

“Would you like another one? I’ll grab this time.”

“Okay.” This was hopeless. She was hopeless. What kind of a person brings up cameras in the bathroom although the more that she thought about it the more she thought she was right. There were hopefully no cameras in bathrooms because that would be an invasion of privacy and also gross and people like to break rules and vandalize things but they also don’t really want to ever get caught. So the inside of a bathroom was the perfect spot.

“Here you go,” he said, plopping the brown drink on the table. She had forgotten what she ordered initially.

“So…” she said.

“I’m still thinking about the bathroom,” he said.

“Oh, thank god! Me too! I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Yeah…”

She took a breath.

“Look, this is going badly. We both know it. It wasn’t going badly before but it certainly wasn’t going great. Maybe I’ve been on too many dates lately. It feels like a lot. But also maybe I haven’t been on enough and haven’t gotten my sea legs yet, or whatever. It’s bad now and I don’t see it getting better. You’re a nice enough person, I think, but actually on second thought I really don’t know. I don’t know if you can know that a person is a ‘nice enough person’ solely based on one date.

“I’ve been told I have to set boundaries and that I have to listen more to myself and so I am going to listen to myself and say that this is no longer worth the hang over tomorrow. So, uh, goodbye.

“Thanks for the drink. You can finish it if you want.”

“What?” he said.