The Importance of Dating Yourself
"If you can't love yourself how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else?" - Jimmy Carter maybe? 1995?
It was poised to be a good day because I got the Wordle in 3 and a perfect game of Connections.1 What a disgusting first sentence. I’ve never shared my Wordle score grid to social media so I’m normal.
I love buying tickets for things. Tomorrow, weeks away, or in a year; that’s what digital calendaring is for!2 I had had my eye on comedian Kate Berlant’s one-woman show during its run in New York, wondering if I’d ever have a chance to see it. I admit at one point I was intimidated by the vague descriptor of “one woman show” (yes many millennials here are picturing that episode of Friends). I had no idea what it was even about aside from “maybe laughs” as I had been familiar with her other work. Guest star stints on shows like perfect-and-now-streaming-on-Max-comedy The Other Two, and various projects with her friend John Early for example. News of another brief stop, this time in Pasadena (near enough to be a part of greater Los Angeles, to the uninitiated) and I sought out tickets.
Well, ticket. Bye pluralization. The plan snowballed as I added on elements (maybe dinner before? Dessert after because I’m BAD u guys!!!) until it was a full itinerary of things I may do with friends or a date date, but it didn’t take much arm twisting to embrace the idea of the solo date night.
Despite experience with entertaining myself alone, some parts had me a bit nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever had to enter a restaurant and ask for a table for one. But when you’re as BOLD and BRAVE as me… jk I brought AirPods just in case, lest I be in a situation needing interact with a stranger who is not employed by a restaurant. I recently wrote about trying to exist undetected in a coffee shop and eating invisibly seems easy at a Chipotle where I’ve had many nights, followed by slipping into a movie with smuggled-in snacks and loosely-structured pants— an AMC A-List membership is great to use with friends AND solo! But was it the fact that I was going to live theater on my own that called for an upgrade over fast-casual or at least a more put-together outfit including zippers and buttons.
A healthy dinner and a mocktail3 later, I was offered a free dessert for reasons unknown?! I did not ask (so I have to assume it’s because I’m cute or because they felt bad for me) but I consulted the menu and chose a kids-sized vegan dessert because a) this was not going to ruin my planned itinerary to get ice cream after the show and b) free.
I had some time to kill before the show so I stopped in some stores on the walk to the theater (this part was poorly planned, it was California-Cold™ outside and a longer walk than anticipated). I passed the time strolling through weirdly empty (?) stores, immediately regretting taking a lap in Lululemon where 4 employees asked me if I was doing okay. I stopped in Vuori, the athleisure brand du jour, and then Apple because I wanted to touch a Vision Pro.
I headed to the Pasadena Playhouse, the cutest little SoCal theater I had never been to. Branding for the show existed everywhere around the building (the will call window rebranded to “TIKATES”) and when it was time, I took my solo mezzanine seat (omg such legroom, we love this theater now!). I’m about as inept at making a theater review as I am a movie review but I do it anyway because the internet has space for it all! This show was fantastic and yet I had trouble even describing it to a friend the next day. Here’s an excerpt from the lede of The New York Times’ 2022 review:
Some people in the audience will laugh at this. Some won’t. Some will be too busy wondering if this bit is ha-ha funny or cringe funny or merely mortifying, a convergence of pleasure, perplexity and embarrassment that is, I would hazard, exactly where Berlant wants us.
Aside from the portion of the show that got dangerously close to me being chosen for a bit of audience participation (it ended up going to the gentleman in front of me, brave), I could have not spoken a word all night, save for the portion of the show that encourages introducing yourself to a neighbor (hi Rachel I hope you had a good time). As soon as I left I felt IN TUNE WITH CULTURE as I had just discovered THE POWER OF LIVE THEATER! (It must be noted that yes, I have seen live theater before this night.)
One last stop on my journey as I walked back to my car was a heaping ice cream cone. The line was long but if you haven’t heard by now, I’m committed to the bit.
Reflecting on this evening on my drive home, I Carrie Bradshaw couldn’t help but wonder if there was a significance to this great day being on February 2, Groundhog Day, a holiday with extremely made up significance and a time loop movie that I remember less than the 2017 classic Happy Death Day. But in my minimal superstition I wondered if I should resolve to always try to make February 2 a great day, lest I wake up the next day and have to repeat it? Watch this space in 2025.
I can’t casually slip in a reference to The Other Two, my favorite comedy of the last five years without adding my wholehearted endorsement and recommendation.
Two adult siblings with dreams of making it in the entertainment business watch as their tween brother finds instant viral fame and they decide to ride the coattails to the top, alongside their mom (Molly Shannon, queen) who’s forced to join in. Hilarity ensues. Three short seasons on Max.
No I don’t mean “dating yourself” as in admitting how old you are. I was born in 2002.
See you in May, Avril Lavigne.
My computer keeps trying to change this word to cocktail. Big Alcohol must be stopped.
And, hopefully, popped an Altoid. You can't be too careful.
Sounds like the perfect date with that handsome devil. Mocktail AND ice cream? Good thing you weren't pulled over on your way home.