Part 2 of 2: The View from the Top of the Stairs

 Part 1: Whose Date is this Anyway?

Anyway, we left me standing at the top of the stairs slipping into my heels, eavesdropping as my parents lead my date to the dining room, where they’ve put out some food he won’t touch and offer him a drink he won’t drink. I strain my ears, but can’t hear anything.

Apparently guys know that the girls are hanging over the railing listening in, because when I mentioned something on our date related to something I didn’t know he had discussed with my parents, he cracked a follow-up joke. I remained utterly confused until he said, “Didn’t you hear what I told your parents?”

“Um, no.”


So there I am, not quite hanging over the railing but good enough, and hearing only distant murmurs. I count to ten twice and move to go down.

Where are you going?” my sister hisses.

“Down,” I whisper back.

“Not yet!!!” she replies fiercely, putting out a hand to detain me. A real bully, this one. I could scuffle with her, but that would send some exceedingly interesting noises floating down into the dining room. I didn’t want his first question on our date to be, “So what was that scream I heard right before you came down?”

“What scream?”

“It was pretty short – cut off in a little gurgle.”

“Are you feeling OK? Maybe we should go back.”

“Ha ha. Just kidding. So, where should we go?”

(Just a PS: guys, if you’re going to make me choose a destination, let me know before we leave the house, so I can ask my parents; they eat out a lot more than I do.)

So I stand quietly at the top of the stairs straining my ears, still not hearing much. After a few more minutes, I’m beyond impatient. What’s the point of all this nonsense and pretend? I’m ready; I’m going down.

“If they’re talking, I want to hear,” I tell my sister, and head downstairs. After all, it’s my date. I should be at it.

Does anyone else find it all a drop weird to wait before making a fashionably late entrance? Or is nobody else ready to roll until five minutes after he shows up anyway?

It turns out the mini-date does have some use. After the date, I mentioned something the guy told me to my parents. My father raised an eyebrow—it didn’t quite jive with the story he got during his five minute grill. A word to the wise guy—keep your story consistent. Liars, distorters of the truth, and tale-tellers fail to impress. For Bob’s sake—don’t get caught at it on the first date.Give the same information on both first dates, because you bet there’s going to be some comparison of notes.

8 thoughts on “Part 2 of 2: The View from the Top of the Stairs

  1. This is why I like going out with girls who have married sisters. Parents by then are sick of the whole game and just open the door and immediately introduce you to their daughter and bid you farewell.

  2. Why do people do this “top of the stairs” thing anyway? This might sound corny or cliched, but what about those who only occupy one floor?

    LWY-you can avoid this by dating NORMAL girls; mostly outside, well, you know where.

  3. Michelle — You beat me to it. I was just gonna ask what the protocol should be for apartment-dwellers. ;-P

  4. Ditto to how I feel, sister. I always waited at the top of the stairs- and only heard muffled conversation. And I marched myself down a few times actually, whilst sick of all of the waiting…

    It’s all a big show.

  5. I never waited upstairs. No point. Am always dressed and ready. Plus my father has no patience for such things. he’s too overprotective. He would probably scare the guy.

    I dont allow my father to do more than just a handshake and a hello. Its safer that way

  6. Pingback: Part 1 of 2: Whose Date is This Anyway? | Bad for Shidduchim

  7. Pingback: Friday Repost: Whose Date is It Anyway? | Bad for Shidduchim

  8. Pingback: Repost: The Whole House is on a Date | Bad for Shidduchim

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