Several years ago, when we were still living in precedented times, I went out to dinner with a friend and spent the whole evening eavesdropping on someone else's extremely awkward first date. It was a ramen restaurant: He criticized her order. Then
he ordered chicken nuggets and French fries off the kids' menu. (For the record: I love chicken nuggets, but not the time or place, dude!) He went on to spend the entire time monologuing about a vacation he was planning; she was plainly uninterested and not even trying to hide her boredom. My friend and I barely talked to each other, we were so transfixed.
Recently, my friend texted me about that night. "I have so many memories of us eavesdropping on the worst people and dates," she told me.
Over the past few months, there have been several trend pieces published about how the pandemic has deprived us all of gossip, and yeah, I definitely miss it—but I miss watching strangers' first dates even more than I miss hearing about that friend or friend-of-a-friend's or friend's coworkers' turbulent on-again, off-again 'ship. I feed my urge for gossip by following DeuxMoi, subscribing to the
Who? Weekly podcast, and watching distant acquaintances' dramas play out on social media. (Hello, former coworker I haven't seen in 5+ years, your IG Stories about your breakup are
fascinating.) But over the past 11 months, the closest I've come to eavesdropping on someone's date is briefly watching two people flirt behind masks while we all stood in line to pick up takeout.
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