Hey, I hope this restaurant wasn’t too hard to find, it’s a bit of a hidden gem. We have to try the Pinot, they say it’s the best in the city! 

Is everything okay? You were way more talkative when we called each other last night. 

It’s cool if your feelings have changed, first dates can be weird. Just be honest with me, are you just not that into me or is this giant mutant brain-eating octopus that’s gorging on my cerebral cortex just freaking you the hell out?

I love these dinner rolls! Spoiler alert, bread’s kind of my Achilles’ heel. 

I notice you’re not eating. Are you gluten intolerant or did you lose your appetite because of the octopus thing?

OK, I know I should have mentioned it, but from time-to-time mutant cephalopods come out of nowhere to devour my brain. I didn’t think it was a big deal or worth bringing up, especially since your profile said you were ‘open to new experiences.’ 

Speaking of experiences, when I was little, I fell into the sea on top of a group of octopi during a bad storm. A lightning bolt struck me, but the billion volts of electricity were absorbed by the sea creatures, killing them instantly. I not only survived but acquired the power to regenerate my body parts, including my brain.

And now every so often, the octopi hunt me down to exact revenge in a bit of a cat-and-mouse game, which can be super awkward to explain to people. I hope you don’t think I was trying to be dishonest. But it’s not like I lied about my height or anything.

Oh look, the harpist is about to start! I requested ‘Hotel California,’ I hope they play it.

If I start losing my ability to speak, please stay calm. That just means this little guy up here has chewed his way through the nerve endings that control my vocal cords. I can write things down on this napkin so we can still communicate like everything is normal.

Wow. If that’s the harpist’s idea of ‘Hotel California,’ they better have a day job!

So, am I your type or what? 

Sorry if that puts you on the spot. But I do have a degree in psychology so reading people is kind of my thing. I’ve been on about a hundred first dates this year already, so I obviously know what I’m talking about. And to be honest, you don’t seem entirely comfortable.

I hope it’s not because I insisted last night that The Eagles were better than The Beatles.  Was that a deal breaker?

Or is the fact that this brain-eating octopus, which has almost finished its blood buffet on my cerebellum and is now chomping its way through my occipital and parietal lobes with so much hellish determination that you’re wondering how I’m still conscious, is making you question the existence of a God? 

I’m not just saying this just because I brought you here, but this is the best Pinot I’ve ever tasted! I hoped it would impress you because I know you want to be a sommelier one day, but I’m starting to get the feeling that you might not be into me. I can tell because you haven’t asked me anything about my life. 

Also, your face has been frozen since you sat down like the subject in the Edvard Munch painting ‘The Scream’, with your hands up to your face as a constant, horrifying shriek resonates through your gaped mouth.

I can handle the truth. Is it me or are you still hung up on you-know-who, who’s taken a breather from chompin’ on my brain and now joined us at the table? I know you can’t move your face right now, so just nod with your eyeballs if it’s the mutant octopus. 

I’ll be okay after a few hours, so you can just leave me here slumped in the chair. After you recover from the shock and if you decide you want to go out again, I know this great little seafood place in midtown where these little medulla monsters wouldn’t be caught dead bothering us. 

I apologize for any misunderstandings tonight and look forward to the future. If we see each other again I promise to put any first-date baggage straight to the back of my mind, or at least where it used to be.

Also sorry about all the blood, I’m happy to take care of your dry-cleaning.