I’ve never tried pilsner beer. I’m not much of a beer drinker, actually. Speaking of beer, earlier tonight, Violet dragged me to the bar in our hometown and we ran into two guys who were in love with her in high school （because every guy was in love with her in high school）， and while Violet got drunk and ended up making out with one of the guys on the dance floor, I got stuck with his friend Devon, who was dead set on describing the ins and outs of his PhD program. I was so bored and tired that I literally fell asleep in the middle of the conversation. Devon was offended, and I felt terrible. I wish I had the heart to tell him that economics isn’t as interesting as he might think.
It’s kind of funny that my bad date plague continues, even when it’s unplanned. It got me wondering what a good date would be like. My “ideal date,” I guess you could say. I wouldn’t mind if we did something basic, like go to the movies and get burgers. Or maybe walk around the park and stop at a bookstore （this might be asking for too much lol）。 Really it would be nice to spend an evening with someone who wanted to hear what I had to say, rather than talk about themselves all night, and who was patient with my nerves and lack of eloquence.
Do you date a lot while traveling? What is the best date you’ve ever been on? Or what does your ideal date look like?
XO,
Lily
FROM: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
TO: Lily G. <[email protected]>
DATE: December 5, 8:52pm
SUBJECT: Re: Happy Thanksgiving
Lily—
I’m not sure that I would call what I do “dating.” It’s hard to commit to someone when you know you’ll be gone in a few weeks. I don’t see the point in long distance.
The best date I’ve ever been on was during my first year at the magazine. While in Paris, I had a picnic with a girl on the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower. I don’t know if I’d consider that my ideal date, but it was cliché and it’s Paris, so there you have it.
I think the requirements of my ideal date would be equally as simple as yours: to spend time with someone I liked and who liked me.
Your bad date stories make it seem as though the men in the US are incompetent. I don’t understand how they keep fumbling their chances with you.
If you were here with me in Plzeň, I’d first bring you to meet Agata and Andel （the couple I’ve been getting to know）， we’ll say we have to leave because we have dinner reservations, but Agata would encourage us to stay and eat dinner with them instead. She’ll say that her rajská omá?ka （beef in tomato soup） is better than anything we’ll eat at a restaurant, and she’ll be right. After we leave their home, we’ll be so full that we’ll walk around the city slowly, staring up at the clear night sky. I’ll point at a constellation of stars and say they look like the shape of a dog. You’ll smile, shake your head and say I’m only making things up so that you’ll laugh, which would be true.
We’ll walk by a bookshop, which will have just closed minutes before. But the owner recognizes that we’re true book lovers, so she lets us stay late and browse the shelves. You’ll choose a Czech edition of Ella Enchanted. I’ll consider buying A Song of Ice and Fire but then I’ll remember my failed aspirations to be like George R. R. Martin, and I’ll decide against it.
Afterward, we’ll come upon a park, but the benches will be occupied by other couples. You’ll say, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we had a blanket to sit on?” And what do you know, I’ll pull a blanket out of thin air （maybe there’s magic in this scenario）， and we’ll sit and spend the rest of the night pointing out more fake shapes in the stars.
It would make up for every bad date you’d ever had.
——Strick
P.S.—this is what Agata’s rajská omá?ka looks like.
FROM: Lily G. <[email protected]>
TO: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
DATE: December 6, 6:32pm
SUBJECT: Re: Happy Thanksgiving
Hi Strick,
Is it sad that our imaginary date is the best date I’ll ever have? That sounds lovely. Seriously. And that plate of rajská omá?ka looks delicious.
（Also, you might hate me for saying this, but your last email really proved that you’re a natural storyteller.）
I’m here working late at the office. It’s Christmastime, and our building is a ten-minute walk away from the big tree at Rockefeller Center, so the area is mobbed with tourists. I can’t believe that you’ve traveled all over the world but haven’t been to New York City. If you were here, I’d take you to every place filled with Christmastime tourists. We’d complain about the crowded sidewalks and how no one seems to know where they’re going. Then your mood will brighten when I take you to the holiday market at Union Square. Because you’re so cool and cultured, I’ll expect you to buy something unique, like energy crystals or handwoven scarves. But you’ll surprise me when you buy a Black Santa figurine and a keychain that says, “I <3 NY.” Afterward, we’ll sit on a Union Square park bench and drink hot chocolate, and you’ll say that New York is simultaneously the most frustrating yet best city, and you can’t believe you waited this long to visit.