Dating 2006 | Blind

She scanned the room. Their eyes met. He lifted his book. She smiled—a small, guarded thing, like she wasn't sure she should.

They talked for three hours. About how the L train was always broken. About the new Arcade Fire album. About how she’d once delivered a package to the actual Beastie Boys’ studio and pretended to be calm. About how he was writing a short story about a man who wakes up as his own voicemail greeting. blind dating 2006

He thought. “ Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind . The first time I saw it, I cried in the theater and pretended I had allergies.” She scanned the room

She was not what he expected. No glasses. No ironic tote bag. She wore a simple grey hoodie, jeans with a small rip at the knee, and Converse so beaten they looked like they’d walked through a war. Her hair was short, dark, and messy. In her hand: a perfect, pristine copy of Kafka on the Shore . She smiled—a small, guarded thing, like she wasn't

“Yeah,” he said, surprised. “That exact one.”

“So let’s skip that,” Leo said. His heart was doing something weird. “Let’s just agree on a second date. Right now. Tomorrow. There’s a diner on 24th that does pie until 2 AM.”