Tweet
The only thing that's better there than a great steak is the great people. Rich culture, lots of fun to be had and the amazing sight to a North American resident of leaves changing and falling in May.
It was with this euphoric (and hungry) state of mind that Emily and I found ourselves for the second night in a row at Cumana, an unbelievable and sadly website-less restaurant in the Recoleta district.
As we were recounting the day's adventures over Quilmes and locro, another couple sat down at the table directly beside us at the busy eatery.
The two of them began bantering away in the typically Italian- sounding Espanol that is ubiquitous down there, and it was soon obvious that this was a first date.
Both sharp looking and well dressed, they seemed to be sharing mutual attraction along with their empanadas and malbec.
Then, something happened. Her mobile phone went off.
She had received a text message, which she proceeded to read silently...and answer. Right there with her date in front of her.
He asked, "Who was that?"
"Nobody", she answered.
Despite the fact that she had broken a pretty basic first date rule, we would have liked to have seen the guy in this scenario man up with some confidence and let it go.
Either that or man up in a different way and not put up with the blatant disrespect and/or lack of social skill she had just exhibited.
No such luck on either account.
According to Murphy's Law, it was right then that she received the reply to her response.
Growing impatient in a fit of immature jealousy, the guy reached across the table, physically grabbed the phone out of his date's hand and started reading the text messages.
Slack jawed, the woman watched silently as his eyebrows began to furrow. Sure enough, another guy had messaged her.
The guy then tossed the phone onto the table, crossed his arms, looked sideways and literally began to pout. Not a word was spoken.
Nonplussed, after about half a minute the woman started to beg him for an end to the deafening silence. But it was to no avail.
Her emotionally overwrought date was too wadded up with insecurity to be of any use in that department.
For clarity's sake, Emily and I really didn't intend to be interlopers in this whole brouhaha.
In fact, at this point we would have rather been spared the pain.
But it's just that this otherwise amazing restaurant places its tables in rows about six inches from each other. So, like it or not, we were along for the ride.
And no doubt, the situation was appalling enough already. But it's what unfolded next that almost cajoled my dinner to the surface.
Fortunately, the food in Argentina is way too good to give back so that didn't actually happen.
The guy began to nervously, and predictably, blurt out that she should "just leave and go out with the other guy", etc.
As unattractive a display as this was, one (i.e. one named "Emily", for example) would have thought (out loud, in English) that the woman would take him up on that offer and split.
Again, no such good fortune.
Instead, she tried to reason with the man-boy across the table that Mr. Text Message was "nothing to her", "only a friend", etc. But her date continued his passive-aggressive display.
Next, as a gasp was heard from the crowd, the woman--at wit's end--announced, "Look, I'll pay for dinner. Here's 500 pesos!"
Still staring at the wall, her date shrugged.
Finally, and unthinkably, the woman pushed all of her chips to the center of the table. "Hey...I'm sorry--really, really sorry. Let's pay the bill and I'll go home with you and prove it to you!"
And yes...they left together, her still pleading and him still pouting.
Emily's usual appetite for dessert was thoroughly lost.
For better or worse, she was pregnant with our now eight-year-old son at the time, so she couldn't exactly drink away this kind of painful experience like the rest of us could, either.
She looked at me and managed to utter a simple, "How?"
Of course, she was viewing things from the female perspective.
In her eyes, the woman had surrendered every shred of self-esteem potentially available to her.
Indeed. But my fascination in that regard was utterly and completely trumped by the ridiculous fact that this guy had acted like a total needy wimp. Yet she paid the bill and was apparently about to have sex with him on the first date.
Wait a minute, isn't that the goal of dating, at least according to lots of "dating gurus" out there? So in a way, can it be possible that this guy succeeded on this date?
If getting her to "pay and lay" is the end game, then there's no denying it. Dude "won".
But if you are like me, you know he somehow still lost. After all, I haven't heard his...um..."method" advocated anywhere.
Can you put your finger on why this is?
In my estimation, both the guy and the gal in this true story got what they deserved.
A woman desperate to be with any man who will approve of her will end up with a man who falls far short of the masculine ideal.
And a man who somehow keeps a woman around by manipulation through weakness will never, ever achieve truly fulfilling success with a genuinely great woman. They won't stick around for it.
So the question remains.
Sure, they both got what they deserved, but are they deserving what they want?
One dinner and one night of "passion" based solely on bargaining is likely a Pyrrhic victory, at best. He'll still be jealous while simultaneously having zero respect for her.
Meanwhile, she'll find her bargain didn't work and she'll be left emotionally empty, quickly bored if not outright disgusted with both him and with her own self. Who wants that?
My challenge to you today is a simple one: Is your definition of "success" big enough?
It should be able to contain your wildest hopes and dreams, not just a "quick fix".
Meanwhile, back at the restaurant, Emily and I resumed our own date with newfound peace. After all, thanks to our "leisurely" pace dessert was still ahead of us.
Emily's appetite recovered and she ordered the most amazing Flan ever experienced by anyone in the entire Spanish-speaking world.
We joked, fed each other dessert and enjoyed each other's company over candlelight.
When finished, she paid the bill (from our joint account) and we went back to our room together to continue the "fun", holding hands.
While the irony is implicit, I'm thinking the rest of our evening was very different from that experienced by the other couple.
What do you think? Share your thoughts in the comments below!