Currently listening to: New Romantics – Taylor Swift
Baby, we’re the new romantics
Come on, come along with me
Heartbreak is the national anthem
We sing it proudly
We are too busy dancing
To get knocked off our feet
Baby, we’re the new romantics
The best people in life are free
My aunt, in her ever-meddling ways, decided to take it upon herself to play matchmaker. She told my mom she had found someone for me, and of course, my mom jumped at the opportunity like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic. Before I knew it, my number was passed along to Brian, and we were set to meet at Yard House. I kept my expectations low, opting for a casual first meeting—no pressure, no overthinking.
I arrived five minutes early and grabbed a table. As I settled in, my phone buzzed. “I’m here.” I looked up and saw him scanning the room, so I stood and gave a small wave. He smiled as he walked over, and for the first time, we took each other in properly. Neither of us had seen a picture beforehand, so this was our first real impression.
Tall. At least 6’2”. Korean. Broad shoulders. A buff build. Tanned skin. Clean-cut. He looked put together—almost too put together.
He sat down, flashed another polite smile, and asked, “How long have you been waiting?”
I told him I had just arrived myself, but for whatever reason, I suddenly felt… shy. His eyes lingered on me in a way that made me hyperaware of every inch of myself. Was my hair out of place? Did I have something on my face? Oh god, did I forgot to do a visible booger (VB) check before getting out of my car? I felt my cheeks warm as I stared down at the menu, willing myself to focus.
Desperate to break the silence, I finally asked, “Do you know what you’re getting?” That seemed to do the trick. He glanced at the menu and said he’d go for a pizza. I settled on the chicken lettuce wraps.
I decided to take the lead, starting with the standard first-date questions. “So, tell me about yourself.”
He told me he was a successful engineer living in L.A., an only child, and a big animal lover. He proudly boasted that he cleared well over six figures. He enjoyed driving at all hours of the night to relieve stress. Honestly, it was giving Nightwalker vibes but I left it alone. When I switched to Korean mid-conversation, he responded effortlessly, which was a pleasant surprise. Everything seemed to be going well… until it wasn’t.
At some point, he started opening up more—maybe too much. He shared that his parents didn’t work and that his mother had been diagnosed with cancer. I saw the way his eyes began to well up, hovering on the edge of tears. I braced myself, unsure if he would actually cry. He told me he had to move them to a different house because their previous neighborhood had terrible air quality, which wasn’t good for her treatment. I nodded in agreement. That made sense.
Then, the conversation took a turn.
Out of nowhere, he asked about my finances.
I felt my face turn stoic. “They’re stable,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.
That should have been the end of it, but no. He continued. “I don’t have any savings,” he admitted, explaining that all his money went toward supporting his parents. Then, with a casualness that made my stomach tighten, he said, “Well, that’s good you’re stable. You can help me support them too.”
Excuse me?
I stared at him, my expression shifting into full resting bitch face mode. My voice was steady but firm. “What if I have to support my own mother?” She didn’t need my monetary assistance but I wanted to know what his answer would have been.
Without missing a beat, he replied, “Well, I’m an only child. From what I’ve been told about your family, you have a brother. He should be supporting her, not you.”
Oh. Hell. No. Wrong answer, buddy.
At that moment, I had to fight every urge to flip the table and scream, “Fuck the patriarchy.” Instead, I took a deep breath and kept my response professional. “If your mother has Medicaid, your dad could apply for IHSS (In-Home Supportive Services) and get paid to take care of her. That could help offset some of your financial stress.”
He didn’t like that answer either.
Awkward silence.
I focused on eating, chewing slowly as I searched for a way to redirect the conversation. Eventually, he took the hint and changed the subject, asking about my hobbies. I answered half-heartedly, my enthusiasm already drained.
When we finished eating, he insisted on ordering dessert. Fine. Whatever. We split a chocolate lava cake and had coffee.
By the 90-minute mark, I was beyond ready to go home.
We got the bill and I offered to pay for lunch since he drove further than I did. He nodded his head in approval.
He walked me to my car, and as I turned to say goodbye, I could tell he wanted to kiss me. Before he could make a move, I swiftly hopped into my car, waved through the window, and watched as he walked away.
As I set my maps to go back home, my phone buzzed. A text from Brian: I had such a great time. Would love to see you again soon.
I responded with a thumbs-up emoji and drove home.
The moment I walked through the door, my mom was waiting, practically vibrating with anticipation. After relaying the events of the date, she shook her head in disapproval and immediately called my aunt. The two of them talked for hours, dissecting every little detail while I retreated to my room for a much-needed nap.
Because let’s be real—dates are exhausting. Especially the small talk.
When I woke up, there were more messages from Brian, asking when we were going out again. I left him on read.
My aunt later informed his parents that it wasn’t going to work out. They were disappointed and didn’t understand why, but they dropped it.
Or so I thought.
A couple of weeks later, my mom, aunt, and I attended a funeral. And guess who showed up? Brian’s parents.
They spotted me instantly. His mother walked straight over and, in a firm voice, asked, “Are you 현숙 (my Korean name, Hyun Sook)?”
I nodded cautiously.
She introduced herself and wasted no time getting to the point. “Why aren’t you replying to my son?”
I stammered for a second before gathering myself. I was not expecting his mom who has cancer to be so direct. “He’s a nice person, but I just don’t think we’d be a good match.”
She didn’t like that answer.
She then turned to my mom, trying to negotiate another date. I have no idea what was said between them, but after that day, his parents stopped bothering my aunt.
Brian, however, wasn’t quite done. He texted one last time, asking if we could be friends. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I felt like I could tell you everything, and that was my mistake. I don’t know why I said all that I said. But something about you compelled me to tell you way too much.
I responded, “I appreciate your honesty, and we can be friends—but nothing more.”
He never texted again.
For a brief moment, I wondered if I had misread the situation, if maybe I had been too harsh. But then I reminded myself—it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. I really wish he hadn’t asked about my money like that and made an assumption about what I was going to do. I felt like he looked at me like a bank instead of a person and I hated that. If things had gone well between us, I wouldn’t have minded providing financial assistance to his folks but the way he said things and how I felt about it, I knew it was not going to work out.
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