I finally asked the waitress about the heat, and she explained that the air conditioner had malfunctioned the night before
For the last eight months, I have been flirting with a guy named Rick from the accounting department at work. We see each other in the break room, at office meetings, and sometimes in the elevator. Just last week, Rick finally asked me out on a date. We planned to meet a local Italian restaurant for dinner, and I was super excited. I bought a cute little dress, and paid to have my nails and hair done. Since it’s the end of June, and the weather is exceedingly hot and humid, I expected the air conditioning to be running at max capacity at the restaurant. I had eaten there twice before and nearly froze to death. I certainly didn’t want to shiver throughout the date, so I chose a long-sleeved dress. As soon as I stepped inside the restaurant, I knew I was in trouble. The venue was totally overheated, and the air conditioner was clearly not running. Before we even got our menus, I was damp with sweat and worrying about pit stains. I actually had enough sweat dripping down my face that I needed to mop it up with a napkin. I drank way too much ice water, trying to cool down, and then needed to excuse myself to the bathroom three times. When I checked my appearance in the mirror, I found mascara running down my cheeks. I finally asked the waitress about the heat, and she explained that the air conditioner had malfunctioned the night before. They expected an HVAC professional to arrive and provide repairs the following day. This didn’t solve the disaster of my first date with Rick from accounting.