SOBER IN THE CITY

Blind Dates and Chocolate Sauce

January 17th at 10:02PM by Sara [347 comments]

For the second phase of my plan, I had to call on the only person I knew who was still out there drinking and dating.

"Thanks for meeting me for lunch, Tar," I said, placing my napkin over my lap. "Are you sure you can be away from the office? I know we're on deadline next week and you've probably got a lot to do..."

Tara and I had managed to sneak out of the office that afternoon and rendezvous at our old lunch spot, Pot Belly Deli, for subs and catching up. I ordered myself a roast beef with cheddar; Tara opted for a turkey and avocado on rye. It felt like old times as we sat down in our usual spot, across from the pig statue located in the back of the restaurant.

"Eh, I've already got all my features in for this next issue already," Tara said with a wave of her hand. "Besides, if I tell Tom I was meeting with 'The Drunk Chick'—this is what he's taken to calling you these days, by the way—then I can expense our meals and we can take an extra long lunch."

"So really, I'm doing you a favor."

"Totally. But you get a great sandwich out of it, too," she said, pointing to the sub I was cramming into my mouth.

"Agreed," I mumbled with my mouth full. Once I'd swallowed, I wiped my mouth and continued. "So, since I'm doing you a favor, I was actually wondering if you'd do one for me?"

Tara stopped chewing and smiled at me. "And here I thought my friendship was enough," she said sarcastically. Then added, "So, what's up butter butt?"

"You promised to stop calling me that once I lost my drinking weight!" I accused with a laugh.

"And once you've lost it, I'll stop saying it," she said.

My jaw fell open in shock and Tara cracked up across from me.

"Kidding. Seriously, what can I do?"

"I've decided it's time to start dating again," I announced. "And I'm sick of dating these guys who all have issues."

"You do realize that all guys have issues, right?"

"Yeah, but not in the way that alcoholics do," I argued, crunching away at a chip. "I just think I'll have better luck finding a normal guy if I look outside my meetings."

"Whatever normal is," Tara mumbled.

"And that's where you come in."

She stopped eating and raised her eyes at me. "What am I, your pimp now?"

"Noooo," I said, sweetly. "But you are my friend who desperately wants me to be happy, right?"

"I guess so, since you being depressed kept you hidden away and acting all creepy like the Unabomber," Tara grumbled.

"What? It wasn't that bad," I said. "Whatever. So, the reason I need your help is, now that I'm no longer hanging around bars, I have no idea where I'm supposed to meet guys."

"And you think I know where to meet guys outside of bar-hopping in this city?" Tara asked. "My last two intimate relationships were one-night stands."

"I was thinking more along the lines of you setting me up on a few blind dates," I said. "I know we just did the most eligible bachelors issue last month and there should be at least a few of those guys you'd think are good enough to set me up with, right?"

"I'd have to think about it, but I guess there might be a few—"

"Perfect!" I exclaimed, cutting Tara off before she could talk herself out of getting involved. "I totally trust you and know I'll love whoever you pick. And I was thinking, my readers would probably really like reading about this. And you know Tom gets off on sordid dating stories..."