I spent the last weekend in Newcastle learning from the Postural Restoration Institute and had the Saturday night in the city by myself. I was free to roam the streets of a small town and cause a havoc. And as any man with a lots of time on his hands would do, I organized a date, with Me.
The Day Before
On the evening before I was scratching my head trying to figure out where should I take Me on a date? After looking through different options on Google I found a nice craft beer bar serving hearty meals right around the corner from where I was staying. I knew that this place would wow Me over. It was given knowing Me’s enthusiasm for craft beers and appreciation for thick cut chips. It didn’t hurt that the bar was dimly lit and oozed a twisted baroque character, creating the perfect environment for a successful date. This would be perfect.
I promised Me not to bury my head in the menu, not to check my phone and not to bring a book. I also promised Me not to let tomorrow’s second day of the course to consume my thoughts and not to rewind the just finished first day in my head. In other words, I promised Me to be completely present in the moment, no matter how awkward things would get. I would put all my focus on Me, the meal, the beer and the atmosphere.
I even decided to wear a reasonably casual outfit, to not seem too desperate to please Me with my sense of fashion. Me should like my style as it is, I thought.
7pm – The Date Night
I left the hotel early as the rain was mounting up, jogging my way across the park to avoid getting soaked before the date. I had agreed to meet Me at the bar at 7pm and, the punctual person that I am, I arrived few minutes early just to be sure I wouldn’t be late. Nothing worse than keeping someone waiting. By the time I arrived the bar was already close to being full and a hint of worry woozed over me, would there be room for Me?
But the seasoned bar-penguin that I am, I swayed my through the crowds and arrived at the bar counter just in time to meet Me. We shook hands and exchanged a casual fistpump a’la westside. As I was reading through the beer selection I exchanged few quick words with the tired looking bartender and decided to go with with Mornington Peninsula Brewery’s porter. If there’s a highway to melt Me’s heart it’s a strong porter that packs a punch, and this one didn’t disappoint. Off to a great start, I thought to myself as the first drops of porter flowed through my lips.
With my Arctic hawk eyes looking for empty seats, I was weighing in on the options in my head. The mission at hand required privacy so sharing a table with others would be out of the question. I kept looking around until my eyes locked with an empty stool in the middle of the room. Just enough privacy but not too much since I didn’t want to hide Me in the dark corners of the room, like some sort of dismembered creature that couldn’t stand the sight in plain open. No, I wanted everyone to know that I was proud to be dating Me that night.
7.15pm – The Date Night
As I sat down and the level of hunger was seemingly uncontrollable I was afraid I would blow the negative fuse on the date. Due to the hectic schedule of the day so far my eating habits had required some flexibility and I hadn’t had anything that resembled food since 1pm. I have a bad track record of making poor meal choices when in a ravenous state of hunger. I was anxious that I would settle for a meal that wouldn’t be good enough. I was afraid that the hunger would cloud my judgement of the menu, consequently ruining the date. I started to feel the sweat pearls forming on my forehead.
The pressure was fuming through my now already semi-closed and tired eyelids. This was the make or break moment of the date and everything would be judged by this one decision – what meal do I order?
After tossing between the rib eye and the sirloin I decided to go with the 250gram Angus Beef Sirloin cooked to medium rare, served with charred corn, thick fries, slaw and porter jus. I opted for extra smoky barbeque sauce on the side. Thick cut chips required the sauce, that much was certain. Satisfied with my decision making skills, I relaxed into the stool and nursed the beer with a new found enthusiasm.
7.25pm – The Date Night
To take my mind off the hunger I ordered another beer, Murray’s Craft Brewing Co’s Dark Knight porter. Safe choice, I thought, but why risk it when the night so far had been a success. Why ruin it all and try to be adventurous by ordering something like an always-disappointing wheat beer. Besides, I was hungry. If there is one thing I know, it’s that when you are carrying a canister of aviation fuel, you don’t want to play with the engines.
So I sat back at the table, had a small sip of my beer, swirled it in my mouth and appreciated the fact that I was inside drinking beer, had food on the way and was sheltered from the thunderous rain of the outside world. There was no obsessing over my phone or that I’d have to pick a newspaper to read just to look busy. None of it. I was having good time with Me.
7.45pm – The Date Night
The meal arrived and all my worries were whisked away. The dead piece of cow laying on the plate in front of me was cooked to perfection. The serve of chips was big enough so I wouldn’t have to return to the hotel via convenience store. The salad was crispy and the only way the barbeque sauce could’ve been smokier was to have an actual campfire next to me.
I took my time with the meal, focusing on chewing each mouthful and placing the fork on the plate between each helping so I could taste the food being grinded between my teeth. I sipped the beer with a patience, unheard of in my brief history of living.
But what made the situation meaningful was that I was giving all my attention to Me and didn’t let anything or anyone to be a distraction. This was a zen-version of Saturday Night Fever. And I was John Travolta without the moves.
8.20pm – The Date Night
But all the good things must come to an end. After two tasty porters, a great cow and a heavy dose of barbeque sauce, I was ready to call it a night and take Me back to my hotel. After all, I would have to be sharp for the next day and no temptation of ordering another porter would steer my determination off the course. No matter how good the company of Me was.
I got up, thanked the bartender on my way out and walked into a cold and rainy Newcastle night, thankful that I had had the pleasure and the patience to sit still with Me.
Why does any of this matter? Why should you care?
If you can’t be content and living in the moment when spending time by yourself, how can you be content with anyone or anything else? It all starts with you. I have a tendency to live in my head, working on something that will make me feel that I am striving forward, all-the-frickin’-time. Whether it’s studying, reading, writing, or whatever. I find it hard to “switch off” and to chill without the thought of not accomplishing something.
So if you recognize yourself as a type-a, someone who is always on or just someone who doesn’t know how to be on their own, look at your calendar and book a date with Me. Make it special and me will appreciate it. Learning to sit in peace with yourself will help your relationships with others as well.
Thank You:
I enjoy spending time on my own but rarely do thoughtful masturdating. I was reminded of the importance of it after reading an article by Nate Green.