Nikita

8 min readDec 8, 2025

February 2009, I had just moved into a new loft after a four-year relationship met its brutal demise.

I. RJD2 — Clean Living.mp3

By focusing on work, fitness, family, and friends, I felt like I was on the right path to recovery.

I had even hung up the plastic Guitar Hero instruments I got in the separation on the walls as a shrine to never play that tune again. “Healing.”

One Tuesday night that I wasn’t working late, I decided to take myself out for sushi.

I went to a place that I was vaguely familiar with and grabbed a booth all to myself. Was a slow night.

I ordered too much. I wasn’t accustomed to ordering sushi for one, so the plates kept coming. Couldn’t do it, so threw in the towel.

I heard giggling coming from the direction of the hostess stand, and three girls were looking right at me.

Now laughing.

What was their problem? I’d seen the movie Waiting and had friends in the industry, so I just assumed they were stoned.

One of the waitresses walked over from the stand and said, “I just made some money off you.”

“Huh?”

“We made a bet on whether or not you were going to eat all this,” she said, waving her hand over the table. “I said you weren’t.” She smiles.

This whole time I thought I had toilet paper on my shoe or something.

Next she said, “Thursday night. You’re meeting me at X Bar.”

Is this another bet?

“Nope. Serious. See you there at 7:30.” Then she wrote her name and number on the back of my receipt: Quinn.

Being freshly single, I was impressed with her assertiveness. She was blonde, attractive, and demanding, but not in a snobby way. Who doesn’t want that in their life?

On the drive home I remember thinking, “What in the hell just happened? Am I really ready to jump back in the dating scene? That wasn’t strange at all. I think she skipped a few steps.”

But I knew I would need to put myself out there sooner than later.
Plus, it didn’t hurt that she was a complete opposite, so it felt like an avenue worth exploring.

II. The Life and Times — Running Redlights.mp3

Thursday night came around. We had exchanged a few texts the previous day, so I wasn’t nervous or anxious. She was way more down-to-earth than she looked, which is extremely rare in this city, but my guard was still up.

The bar was really close to my place, so I arrived earlier than planned. Charcoal v-neck sweater, jeans, black loafers. Late February chill.

So, I called a buddy to give him the lowdown on what I was doing to pass the time. It was nice out, so I was just roaming up/down the sidewalk, yapping.

I hung up, and it was 7:50. She still wasn’t here.

I didn’t want to come off as pushy, so I just waited in the entryway of the bar. Not like we had a reservation or anything.

I was about to bug my buddy again, and then she came rushing in. Dark chocolate brown blouse, jeans, brown flats. Her hair was shorter than I remembered, or perhaps it was just the lighting at the sushi place. Beautiful smile. She was put together, preppy, and pretty.

“Hey! Come outside!” she excitedly said.

We walked out.

“Look!” She pressed a key fob.

Car chirps and lights flash, and it was a brand-new white Jetta. She drove straight from the dealership.

I was excited for her and thought it was pretty cool that she shared this personal milestone with me. I mean, we just “met” 48 hours ago. Outside looking in, you’d think that we were already an item.

I also thought it was a great way to set the tone for the evening. The bar did the rest. Downtempo playing. Dimly lit. Not overly crowded or modern, but very European train station. I was impressed.

III. Bonobo — Nightlite.mp3

I had assumed she’d been there before, but she hadn’t. It was a new experience for us both.

Instead of a table, she opted to sit at the bar, which made it even more of a casual affair.

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In my head I’m thinking, “Who is this girl?” Everything about us meeting felt kind of left field. Like Ashton Kutcher was going to come out with a camera crew to tell me I got Punk’d.

She was the cheerleader to my jaded jock.

It turned out she actually was a college cheerleader, which didn’t surprise me one bit.

It was her first new car, and she was proud to do it all by herself. She had a strained relationship with her parents, but we didn’t delve into that much.

There was a four-year age gap between us, but at that time I had already been through a couple market fallouts, some failed startups, and a handful of breakups.

Sure, I was weary, guarded, and had some miles on me, but I refused to let it define me.

I was a senior software engineer in this chapter of my life and made numerous critical decisions daily. It was nice to have someone take the lead, even if it was for one evening.

She was bright, positive, and open. She asked questions, listened, and held easy eye contact.

She told me she’d found me interesting at her sushi place and figured her best move was to ask me out directly.

Sure, she bet against me and she was late, but she was also warm, charismatic, and genuinely sweet. Qualities and traits I didn’t think I was vulnerable to at this stage of mending. This was my first date since the big breakup, and I was feeling a little disarmed by her charm.

Then she ordered shots.

IV. Black Tie Dynasty — Ten Steps.mp3

“To a new connection, a new car, and a new me. Cheers!”

Then she ordered several more rounds, and I declined each and every time.

1) I don’t want to hit the road like this, even if it’s a short drive.

2) It’s a Thursday night. I still have work tomorrow.

Then Quinn got the bartender involved by lying on the bar and having her take a body shot off her stomach.

The bartender, who had been complimenting her looks all night and telling us how much of a “cute couple” we made, was more than happy to play along and go shot for shot with her.

Quinn was tiny, fast, and agile enough to make this happen. I apologized to the patrons around us that were witness to the MTV Spring Break antics taking place.

When I was a kid, Dusk Till Dawn(1996) was on, and it was Grandpa’s first time watching it. He went to the restroom, came back, and asked me if I changed the channel.

That’s exactly how I felt. Like I said earlier, I had close friends in the service industry and knew how quickly a simple night could take a turn. And this night was taking that turn.

The charming cheerleader I met up with was now complete chaos.

I know she doesn’t live close. I know she’s slightly impaired. I know I need to take a stand.

So, I offered to call her a cab. The neighborhood we were in was safe, and her new car would’ve been perfectly fine overnight. She declines.

So, then I made her an offer to crash at my place: “Take the couch or bed, and I’ll bring you back to your car on my way to work in the morning.” She laughs it off as “nice, but ridiculous.”

I ordered her some water, and recapped the situation to the bartender (even though she was the enabler), hoping she’d chime in. The bartender just smiled and shook her head. “Oh, she’s fine,” she said.

Upon walking Quinn to her car, I offered one last time and pointed towards the skyline in the direction of my loft in hopes she’d snap out of it. “It’s just behind those buildings,” my arm completely outstretched.

She kissed my cheek, told me she “had fun”, closed her door, started the engine, rolled the window down, and said “text you when I get home.” Then she drove off.
The warm feeling I had earlier in the evening was gone.

Friday — The workday went by, and I still hadn’t heard from her. I sent a couple texts during lunch. Maybe she’s sleeping it off, I thought.

Saturday — Nothing. I figured maybe I did get Punk’d.