Date Location: Zack’s Oak Bar & Restaurant
Location Review: 4.5 Stars – Great brunch menu, reasonably priced, and had healthy/clean options. Sweet potato quinoa bowl was on point.
Date Duration: 2 hours
The week I met Jon I had 3 dates scheduled. Out of all of them, he was the one I was most excited about. He grew up in the same town my uncle lived in, was a Pats fan, tall, dark hair, went to Cornell, traveled a lot, and got a zombie virus from the permafrost in Alaska. HOW FUCKING COOL IS THAT? Clearly he was smarter than me and I found it so fucking sexy. What also played in his favor was that he was going to be in NJ earlier that day which meant I got to be on home turf. Fuck. Yes. Leave 15 minutes before I’m supposed to be there? SOLD.
I picked out a brunch spot and the stage was set. This was the day I was going to meet my future husband. He walked up to the restaurant looking cute as fuck, his voice was nice, we got a table, and OH MY GOD HE WAS SO BORING.
I asked about how he contracted a zombie virus and all he had to say was, “Yeah, it was crazy. There was something in the ice. I just had to get antibiotics. It was fine”. He travelled a lot and rode motorcycles in Vietnam. “It was cool.” I felt crazy for asking him all these questions but he wasn’t elaborating or even volleying questions my way. WTF, you went to Cornell. Why is this so difficult?
What really dug his hole was his career/life ambitions. Despite having accomplished great things, it didn’t seem like he had much coming down the pike. He took a random teaching job for the hell of it, regretted his college major of archaeology, and lived in Brooklyn. Okay, the Brooklyn thing wasn’t bad. What was bad is that he had lived there for 3 months, hadn’t purchased a bed, and was sleeping on a deflated air mattress. Very sexy.
We were going to the same train station and walked back together. We were also on the same platform but didn’t know. We said the goodbyes, hugged, and he asked where to go. I told him track 2. I was on track 3. So we stood on the platform, awkwardly apart, in silence.
He sent me the Jack Chop video the next day of a Massachusetts guy with a hard-ass Boston accent. I sent him Shit Boston Mothers Say. The day after he texted me saying he watched the Super Bowl with Eagles fans. I gave my condolences. Day after that he sent a video of Philly fans rioting. I left him on read and never heard from him since.