The Surprise Date

I’m not a fan of surprises. Especially on a date.

Unless, of course, the surprise is that my date is an underwear model who needs me to take tasteful artistic nude photos for her portfolio after we do dinner.

Surprise Dates are an entirely different matter. They blindside you with all kinds of random weirdness, and you have to employ your powers of creativity just to keep up.

I was at Asiatique lounge, enjoying half-price appetizers and drinks with a friend when I got a surprise text from Hot Yoga Girl. She wanted to know what I was doing. I told her. She said she’d meet me there in 10 minutes.

Surprise! I’m suddenly on a date.

I was in alien territory. I am, by nature, a “date planner.” I don’t like the unknown. The Surprise Date is something I’ve never experienced. Was I up to the task? The risk was high, the potential for disaster tremendous. Luckily, I was two gin cocktails into the evening, so I naturally assumed everything would go smoothly.

She showed up, wearing an outfit that defied all laws of fashion, style and logic, but still managed to look hot anyway. My friend soon said goodbye and I was left with Hot Yoga Girl, drinks and conversation.

The conversation was not riveting. To avoid any more of it I suggested we find some entertainment.

I remembered that Sapat, featuring Dane Waters, was playing at Headliners and suggested we go. Dane has a fabulously unique voice, and as long as she isn’t singing French Polka, I always enjoy her musical endeavors.

We got there just in time to completely miss Sapat’s set, but another band was hitting the stage and we ran into Dane in the crowd. I introduced her to my date before we hit the bar.

The other band (not Dane’s) was terrible, so we made fun of the guitar player, who’d miraculously gotten a show without actually learning to play the instrument. We had a mutual dislike for talentless posers, and Hot Yoga Girl smiled at me for the first time. We made a connection.

After the band finished, we retired to the couch in the lounge to finish our drinks. The bouncers started shutting the place down.

“Why don’t we move in together?” she asked, sipping another Tito’s Vodka and Tonic.

Surprise! Your date is Bat Poop Crazy.

Sometimes things move fast, but this wasn’t the right kind of fast. Wasn’t there something that was supposed to happen between the second date and moving in? I felt we were missing several key steps in the relationship.

I decided to kiss her immediately. If she was already talking about moving in together I seriously needed to catch up.

She was a very good kisser. In fact, so much so I actually considered the possibility of immediate cohabitation – for almost 12 whole seconds. Then I came to my senses and walked her to her car.

It’s safe to say that anyone who engages you in a Surprise Date may be a little off-kilter. That’s the thing about surprise dates: You never know what’ll happen.

I pondered the evening. Did I handle myself well?

I’d flexed my creative powers and pulled off a successful date, despite being utterly blindsided.

I found entertainment, fun, and even a first kiss, all without even knowing I’d be on a date when I woke up that morning.

I had let go of my preconceived notions and allowed the experience to happen spontaneously.

I had plunged into the unknown.

And I decided to call her again.

Just because she was slightly loony didn’t mean she was without her charms.

The best thing about Hot Yoga Girl was her complete indulgence in the act of spontaneity. I may not have intended to move in with her just yet, but I was enamored by her ability to completely rob me of my pre-conceived notions of how the evening should actually progress.

Surprises, I suppose, could be a good thing after all.

Contact R. Chase at