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I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but I guess the universe is funny like that. Some days it feels like things are just meant to go a certain way, even if you're not sure where the hell you’re heading.

I had met Payton on Tinder. We exchanged maybe one text a day, just little things—nothing special. I thought maybe he wasn’t that into me. I wasn’t even sure if I was into him. But something about his profile made intrigued me, so I kept replying. His messages were all about work or his co-workers. I noticed that he would use words like Lit, Vibin, Fire, Bussin.

I hated it. I mean, who talks like that? Seriously, what does Bussin even mean? But he seemed nice enough, so I kept entertaining it.

Then, after days of the same half-hearted back-and-forth, he texted me his phone number and asked if I wanted to meet at Dave & Buster's.

Now, I have to admit, I was way more excited than I should have been. His pictures were very attractive! As a single mom, dating is not exactly the easiest thing to fit into your life. But I’d been craving an actual night out—just me and my thoughts. So I agreed.

I showed up at the arcade, already a little nervous. I’d been there once before with my girlfriends, but it felt different tonight. I hadn’t had a real date in so long, and I was rusty. I kept checking my phone, wondering if maybe he was just going to cancel.

Then, a few minutes late, Payton showed up. And of course, he was in the middle of a Zoom business call.

I couldn’t help but stare as he held his phone to his ear, gesturing with his hands, clearly deep into whatever importantthing he was discussing. I stood there for what felt like forever, half-hoping he'd wrap it up so we could actually start our date.

I could hear his side of the conversation—his words a mix of marketing talk, sales jargon, and whatever the hell "bussin’" meant. He dropped a couple of "lit" and "fire" comments that made me cringe. I glanced around the arcade, wishing I could disappear, but also feeling too polite to leave.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Payton ended the call. He looked up, clearly flustered but also a little sheepish. “Sorry about that,” he said, his smile trying to make up for the awkwardness. “Work stuff.”

We finally sat down and ordered food. I tried to make small talk, but every other sentence out of his mouth was like a cringey slang bomb, the kind that made me want to hide my face. He was full of energy, talking about his solar sales job and all these terms I didn’t understand.

But the food came, and we ate in relative silence. He had a few beers, which I always assumed drinking on the first date was impolite. I was starting to wonder if this was going to be one of those nights I could barely remember tomorrow. That’s when he suggested we hit the games.

At first, I was going to bail. I mean, I really wanted to bail. But something inside me, something like a whisper in my ear, said, "Why not? You haven’t been here in forever. What’s the worst that could happen?"

So I stayed.

We started with the classic games—Skee-Ball, the basketball hoops, those weird racing games that always made me dizzy. The first couple of rounds were... okay. Payton still dropped his slang like he was allergic to regular conversation, but I was starting to feel a little less irritated.

Then, we hit the air hockey table.

It was like a switch flipped.

We started playing like we were in a tournament, talking trash, laughing at missed shots, and egging each other on. I got a few wins in, and I could tell he was getting a little competitive, which made it even better. For once, it felt like the weird language barrier between us didn’t matter. We were just two people having fun.

And then we kept playing. Over and over again. I wasn’t thinking about the fact that he still used phrases like, “That shot was straight-up bussin'” or “You gotta feel the vibes, you know?” It didn’t even annoy me anymore. It was actually... kind of funny, in a weird way.

Somehow, the night started to feel real. We were laughing, talking, having a good time. He stopped with the constant sales pitch, and I stopped pretending like I hated his words. We were just two people at an arcade, having a blast.

By the time the clock read 1 a.m., I wasn’t ready to leave. I wanted to keep playing, to keep talking, to keep feeling like this.

We acknowledged the time as we searched for prizes, we didn't have enough points for.

I sighed, trying to hold onto the moment a little longer. I decided to stay, what is the worse that could happen?

He walked me to his car, the night air cool and crisp, and for the first time all evening, I wasn’t cringing at his use of slang. I had to admit—he was... pretty fun to be around. Maybe he wasn't as bad as I'd thought. Maybe I wasn’t as annoyed as I thought I was.

“Do all girls like Taylor Swift,” as we sat in his car.

I grinned and confirmed.

“This song is about me,” he said with a wink.

I couldn’t help, but laugh as he played 22 by Taylor Swift.

Moving back to my car, I followed him to his house. It was a lovely apartment. Going inside, we decided to play a movie in his living room. The best part….HE WATCHED THE MOVIE I PICKED OUT. During the whole movie, he was extremely respectful. Asking questions before he tried anything. We talked for what seemed like an eternity. I would talk about this date for weeks to come.