Striding down the street by Chelsea in shimmering wing-tipped shoes, Bartleby felt like a new man. His back arched straight up like a proud man as he carries a fragrant bouquet of jonquil and yellow chrysanthemum flowers. He holds them close and gently has he happily agrees on his flower selection of light and uplifting whites and yellows. The brightness of it contrasts greatly against his dark ingot suit that practically looks tailored to him, while the rhinestone studded tie shimmers brilliantly, expressing Bartlebly's true show-off style.

His smile couldn't get any larger as he grins like a love struck fool at the strangers on the street staring back at well, everything. Of course with the way the man is hyping up the date to be, he's either going to be left in utter disappointment or a mixed uncertainty. It's always the two whenever he goes in his blind dates, yet he continues to trot in like he's about to meet the lover of his life, and the bearer of his children. Despite it, he always leaves with a tinge of pain in his heart like there's a hole or a piece missing which he desperately needs to fill. Yet time and time again, the man is hopeful that with every woman he meets there's a chance of her being the one.

The man's walk of glory soon comes to an end as he approaches the corner which the restaurant is located. It's not far from the Chelsea Market either, so the food is likely to be amazing as most other places in the area. With great promise, Bartleby takes a deep breath before stepping into the aromatic building. It's a busy night too with the bar looking rather crowded. It just makes the whole date seem swell at it seems like he's in quite a hot spot.

"I'm here for a part of two."

The hostess stands staring for a moment at the man's look. It is shocking to her as she though to expect a man to dress up like he did this very night. He looks good in it all, but seeing a shimmering tie and a boasting pompadour can still surprise a person yet again, it is New York.

He looks back at the hostess as he's notified that the other has already arrived. Of course Bartleby lives why being "fashionably late" whether it's intentional or not. Though he would have preferred to arrive sooner, making a mental note to himself for the future.

"I'll take you to your table."

The mystery date is now just a few feet away, yet he still doesn't know who. As the hostess weaves through the tables with Bartlebly following after, his heart starts to pound viciously. 'What if she is the one,' he hopes as his body temperature rises with anticipation. Seated alone with white candle light just to the site, Bartleby can safely assume it is here. His eyes marvel her her lustrous long hair, looking almost like a dark lavender in color under the straining fluorescent lighting. He softens his smile to look more gentle approachable.

The hostess points down to his seat across from the woman, and without a second thought, the man with the pompadour bows down in front of her like a gentlemen. Offering his beautiful flowers while introducing himself, the stopping suddenly halfway through. His body freezes as his expression turns blank. Feeling as if he's gone blind or mad his mind runes in circles trying to figure out, why an ex girlfriend was sitting to have dinner with him. His ex. From freshmen year. Which they then broke up. How?

@kyle