Valentine's Day

4:30 P.M. - Ecstatic about the my upcoming date (Dinner and Cinema) with the French girl, Genie, for short, I give myself an hour to prepare. I choose my finest outfit, most of which was purchased the day previous just for this occasion, consisting of a glossy new pair of pointed, black Italian dress shoes, a new pair of European style (tight and slim) indigo jeans from Calvin Klein, a never-before-worn black button-up from Hugo boss, shirtless beneath - thanks to a couple of tanning sessions during the week, covered by a casual blazer from H&M, not to mention a silver ring and black leather bracelet from H&M, my trusty citizen watch and a silver cross necklace. A few sprays of Dolce & Gabbana-The One, and I'm ready to go.

5:20 - Equipped with a beautiful, red, Grand-prix rose and a box of excellent milk chocolates from Hotel Chocolat, I leave to pick her up.

5:25 - She comes in from a cigarette, dressed nowhere near as nice as I am (I assume she thinks that: a) we're not going to a nice restaurant. b) American's have no style and class and didn't want to impress me. c) she doesn't give a shit about our date.) I give her the rose and the wrapped up box of chocolates (an L18 box of chocolates) - she won't open the package up until after we get home. We say our hello's and she compliments me on my appearance. She asks if I would like her to change into something nicer. Umm, yeah. . . I obviously would. "No, you look fine," I say instead. We leave.

5:30 - Waiting for us outside is a black Mercedes-Benz (I put way too much effort into this date). I open the door for her. She gets into the car. I close it, walk around and get in, as well.

5:40 - I ask the driver if it's difficult to drive in London. Genie asks the driver if he has a Tom Tom. "No. No, I don't need one," he replies.

6:10 - I call the restaurant, Quaglino's, to explain why we're 10 minutes late and need directions. Our driver is lost. I think myself, I should give him a nice tip so he can get a Tom Tom. I type into my phone - He's right, he doesn't need a GPS - and hand it to Genie. She smiles, "I was thinking the same thing."

6:20 - We arrive at Quaglino's. I decide not to tip the driver for two reasons: 1. We're 20 minutes late. 2. People don't tip anywhere in London, except at restaurants where you have a waiter/waitress. If he wants a tip he should get a Tom Tom.

6:22 - The doorman opens the door and we walk inside Quaglino's, and I can't help but smile. This place is awesome, I think to myself. Walking down a marble staircase, surrounded by neon blue lighting, we arrive at the receptionist's table. A woman takes our coats and hands us a number, 128. Another woman asks us for the name of the reservation. "Brennan, Tyler Brennan," I reply. Yes, I think I am James Bond in this moment. The bar is situated one flight above the main dining area. This is a good idea of the view I get, although upstairs looking down: http://www.quaglinos.co.uk/ Replace the white flowers with bouquets of Red Roses, a wonderful assortment of valentine's day decorations, and throw throw in the live, harmonious jazz music and that's exactly what it is.

6:25 - We take a seat in the bar and await our table. Dimmed lighting. Small round tables - a soft whitish, marble looking surface. Circular, chocolate-copper colored, leather chairs - the ones with the half crescent back rest. A white candle. White carnations. We take a seat.

6:26 - I'm sad. I hear the one thing I desperately wish not to hear. "I'm not drinking tonight," is Genie's response to the waitress' inquiry regarding our choice of drinks. "I'll take a vodka tonic. A tall one, please." is my reply.

6:50 - Conversation changes from small talk to personal talk. Not the good type of personal talk about dating, intimacy and opinions on sex, but rather the kind of personal talk about mother's who didn't care for their daughter's, broken families and disdain for relationships.

6:55 - I try my best to be sincere and listen. As a matter of fact, I am and do. But please, it's valentine's day. Even if it is another hallmark holiday, it's still the one day when lustful, passionate romance is supposed to be in the air. I wait for an opening, then redirect conversation for a moment so that I can tell her I'm going to ask the hostess when we're going to be seated.

7:05 - Success, we're being brought to a table in the main dining area. I'm happy again. A second hostess seats us, where after we're immediately delivered a glass of champagne. She has no choice but to drink now. We regress back to small talk.

8:40 - I'm eating my cheesecake. I'm really happy now. The first of the five course meal started with champagne. The second some cracker thing with salmon on top. The following, bellotine de fois gras. For the main entree, I had sea bass with champagne sauce, prawn and potatoes and some vegetable mixture, all with a glass of Shiraz. She had cannelloni. For dessert we both had the New York style cheesecake.

8:55 - I get the bill. I'm sad again. L121.50 I pay the bill and leave. She seems happy. I'm not so sad anymore. We walk to the receptionists desk and hand in the number 128. It's late enough that we're not going to make it to the 9:00 cinema, so I can't help but think that I might save myself another 20 pounds by not having to purchase tickets for that. We walk towards Leicester square anway. We walk arm in arm. I feel a little affection from her, perhaps this night will end successfully after all. We talk about her family again. This time her dad. She likes her dad much more than her mom. While at dinner she missed several phone calls from him, so she calls him back and I smile as I listen to her conversing in French. After she gets off the phone we interlock arms again and continue towards Leicester square.

9:05 - We have our first argument. The miss France believes that England is a country, and that London is the capital of England. I argue that England is more of a constituency of the United Kingdom. We argue for 5 minutes. Neither one agrees that the other is right. I like this girl, despite her obvious ignorance.

9:20 - We find a Cinema showing slumdog millionaire, the movie we chose to go to. However, the show time isn't until 11:40. We agree to find something to do in the meantime. Genie proposes calling a friend who's in the area and meeting up with her and her friends. With no other options, I decide this could be a good idea, since I would have the opportunity to impress her friends and make myself more appealing to her.

9:45 - We meet her friend Sammy. When Genie points to me, Sammy smiles and I see her check me out. She's very friendly, and, I notice, very attractive. I consider changing my target. I reconsider. I don't think that would turn out well for me. I haven't drank that much, yet.

10:15 - I'm sick of walking around. Genie and Sammy do what I should've expected them to do, girl talk.

10:25 - We arrive at the roadhouse, a club with a live band, one that charges 12 pounds for entry. We'll need to leave around 11 to make our movie, so I'm happy that Genie says it would be a waste to go in their if it was to only be for an hour. Thank you God. My bank account really appreciates it. We say goodbye to Sammy and venture off to find the cinema. I facetiously (to her, anyway) ask her if she wants to hold hands like everyone else surrounding us. She replies that she has never liked holding hands and finds it stupid. "You thinking England is a country is stupid," I want to tell her, but instead I just smile and pretend that I give a shit about her stupid opinions.

10:45 - We get into the cinema an hour early, but that's ok. It's cold outside, I'm tired of walking around. A bar would be pointless because she doesn't want to drink and I don't have enough money to drink. I want to go to a liquour store and buy a small bottle of whiskey for the movie, but I realize that she probably wouldn't like this. "Why should I care? This whole date has been about her so far." I tell myself I'm being selfish. I hate lying to myself.

11:00 - We're sitting inside the cinema talking and she talks about her ex-boyfriend. I want to kill myself. She talks about her golden retriever. I want to talk about my golden retriever. We're having an actual conversation again. Yay. Theatre 6 opens up so we go inside. A cinema is much different in London then it is in America. American movie theaters kick ass. English cinemas aren't nearly as nice. Go USA!

11:30 - Adverts (Previews) start.

11:37 - I want to see The International.

11:40 - Slumdog Millionaire starts.

12:44 - I look at my watch. Some dumb bitch answered her phone during the movie. I shake my head because I took that dumb bitch to a movie. I hate my life.

1:05 - I'm depressed. I didn't want to spend Valentine's day watching a bunch of Indian kids getting murdered. Valentine's day and genocide are not a good combination. Damn extremist religion . . . and atypical French girls.

1:50 - We leave the Cinema. The movie was good. I'm glad I saw it, just not on Valentine's day after an expensive dinner. I call for a ride. They say they have no driver's in the area. I'm pissed off. We walk to the nearest bus station.

2:05 - We get on the bus, a double decker, and Genie sits on the steps between the ground and upper floors. There are no seats together up there. I'm somewhat satisfied that she didn't ditch me to take one of them. A man gets on the bus (my guess is 25 and moderately intoxicated) and asks Genie if there are any seats upstairs. "Go look," is my darling's charming response. The man proceeds to flirt with her. She proceeds to tell him to fuck off. I'm entertained. This conversation continues for a few minutes and I decide to step between them and block her piercing scowls. The man goes to find another seat. I wonder whether or not that was a good choice by me. I was actually smiling.

2:20 - We get off the bus and walk back towards home. We talk about disney movies that we like, and songs from the movies. We sing a little. I think this night might turn out well.

2:30 - We get home. I contemplate asking her if she wants to watch a movie in my room, but she saves me the trouble. "I'm going to walk to my friend's hostel and get my scarf. Thanks for taking my out tonight, "she says. I say goodnight, not even bothering going in for a kiss. I already know what the result of that would be. I turn around and walk towards the door. I really, really hate my life.

2:35 - I walk inside and go to my New York friend's room where several girls and a couple of my guy friends are hanging out. I get showered with compliments on my outfit and one of the girls tells me I look incredibly sexy. She's a 9. I decide I took the wrong girl out. My friends ask me about my night and tell me about theirs. They ask if I want to go to the kebab place down the road and get some food. I like my friends. Time to start drinking. I get another beer and we leave to get some food.

3:45 - I go up to my room. The last hour was the best part of my valentine's day.

The following day, 4:00 PM - I find out that Genie stayed at the hostel until 6:15. I laugh. What else can I do?

8:00 PM - I meet an American girl who's greek and very attractive. We play a game of chess. I'm happy again.