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The hostess checked our coats and we sat down on the same side of the table, scowering the wine list and doing last minute preparations. We had arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, allowing for traffic, parking, and a general desire to be considerate of the situation.
“Okay,” she said, “So when they get here, I think we stand up. You shake hands, I’ll go for hugs. If they want to hug you, that’s cool, but I don’t think they will. No offense.”
I nodded and grunted in agreement, leg bouncing frantically on the ground. I had looked over the entire menu—food and drink—at least five times, but couldn’t retain any of it. Words didn’t make sense. My breathing was shallow. Face frozen in the nervous state of smiling with my mouth and screaming with my eyes.
This was it. This was the night we had been talking about for what feels like ages. I was meeting my girlfriend’s family for the first time. All the high praise she had given them, all the “Oh, you’ll love them” remarks I got from her friends, it was all about to come to a head at an Italian restaurant in Lincoln Park.
Adrenaline and anxiety pulsed through my veins as the minutes went on. We knew they were just looking for parking so it couldn’t be much longer. Then we looked up, and they waltzed down the gauntlet of the restaurant straight towards our table. No turning back. With shaking hands and an elevated heart rate, I stood and introduced myself to my girlfriend’s mother, sister, and father, in that order.
Here are the thoughts that were going through my head for the next three hours.
It’s way too late to back out of this restaurant, isn’t it?
Once I got a glass of wine in my system and my nerves calmed down, I started looking over the menu, something I should have done before deciding to make a reservation there. It was one of those restaurants where the title of the dish is in Italian with the description in English. The only problem was, the types of pasta they served were all in Italian, and I wasn’t about to start a pissing contest by ordering something on the more expensive end of the entrée list. So instead, I confidently ordered a pasta dish that had shrimp in it, fully aware that I had no idea what was about to be set down in front of me.
It was a high risk-high reward situation, and luckily it paid off.
How much do they know about how we met?
It wasn’t through traditional means. She was a fan of PGP and slid into my DM’s on Twitter in response to a column I wrote. Then, we went through a whole courting process for about six months until we finally decided, “Hey, we should probably just be boyfriend and girlfriend, right?” And there’s nothing wrong with that! It was actually pretty great and I’m thrilled with how it worked out. However, I am not like most people. I am definitely not like most adults over the age of 40. So for all I know, they may completely disagree with that entire aspect of our relationship, which would definitely make for a bummer of a dinner conversation.
Man, our waiter really isn’t holding back tonight.
“Hey everyone, how’s it going?” he asked.
“Good, good,” we all responded.
“Oh, that’s great. I hope everyone had a good holiday. I had myself a friendsgiving last night and, uh, let me just say, I’m feeling it today.” We all looked at each other uncomfortably. “Y’know, because there was a lot of wine and cocktails involved…”
“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it,” Lila’s dad responded. Our waiter chuckled to himself.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been drinking water all day to kill this hangover. But just because I’m not drinking, doesn’t mean you don’t have to be! Can I get you started with some wine or cocktails?”
Y’know, I have to admire his transparency. We’ve all been hungover on the job before. But in this case, dude, we’re out here trying to get to know each other, and throwing yourself into that mix is just stressing me out.
This…This is going well!
After about forty-five minutes, I found myself leaning back in my chair. Lila looked over at me and smiled. We had moved past the generic work-family-college topics and moved on to telling stories about growing up and holidays past. We laughed, we got dessert, we kept talking. I thanked them all graciously for coming out and meeting me and we all agreed that it would be great to see each other again.
Only thing left to do now is introduce her to my family. The pressure is on..
Respond
Charlie
Using sarcasm as a defense mechanism since 1993. At any given moment I'm either tired, drunk, or stressed out. Get at me at charliepgp@gmail.com or whatever.
@therescharlie
@herescharlie
herescharlie
Jesus how many writers on this site meet there SO’s from someone reading there columns?
How about meeting your SO from the comment section? Sup?
Wanna dance?
DMs are always open.
With a picture of tswift up there it’s almost like you WANT to catfish us.
I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not I am the real Taylor Swift
No guys, seriously, it’s Taylor. Speaking from experience.
Can confirm that a simple “sup?” is indeed a good idea.
sup
I should try writing then…
I know Kyle, Will and Charlie all did. That is pretty good odds.
My comments are the glue to my gf and I’s relationship. I mean, how can they not be?
Thought I was only meeting the parents on Thanksgiving. Turns out dinner was actually at the Aunts house were I was being introduced to the entire extended family, grandparents included. All the drinks in the world could not cure the anxiety on the car ride over.
Were you also hungover from Wednesday?
I should write for PGP to find a girl.
This is the feel good Monday content we need. Good for you. It’s been a while, but there’s nothing like that confident feeling you get when you realize you haven’t made an idiot of yourself in front of her parents/family. It’s like ecstasy, but less holes in your brain
I hope you commented on the Steelers excellent season and expressed disappointment in the Pens followed by a ‘Well they won last year, can’t be too greedy’.
Or don’t bother sucking up and let the father take joy in telling you why his teams are so much better than yours.