So, I went on a date yesterday—and not just any date, a bookstore date! We went to Books-A-Million, which honestly felt like a treasure chest disguised as a bookstore. I walked in expecting shelves of paperbacks and maybe a coffee counter, but no—this place had vinyl records and an entire aisle and a half dedicated to Funko Pop figurines! I’m definitely going back to get one for my sister’s birthday (she’s obsessed), but let’s get back to the date.
His name is Bobby. Where we met? I have no idea—LOL, the internet, maybe? He’s tall, kind of lanky, average-looking (in a sweet way), with the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. His teeth are a little, well… let’s just say they’re doing their own thing—but honestly, that made him even more endearing.
He treated me to a vanilla frappe (points for that), and he got some iced cold coffee for himself. We sat down and talked for over an hour and a half. It wasn’t awkward at all, which surprised me. We covered everything from family and mental health to exes and weird dating experiences.
Bobby kept telling me I was pretty—like, four times. By the third time, I called him out: “That’s the third time you’ve said I’m pretty!” He just smiled and said it again. He also complimented my eyes and said I had a nice voice. I mean, hello blush overload.
At one point, I told him that with my bipolar, I sometimes talk in circles and jump back to topics if I feel like I didn’t finish my thought. Bobby didn’t even flinch—he said he liked listening to me. That alone made me feel so seen.
He also shared a wild story about a catfished date—a woman who looked nothing like her pictures. Apparently, he expected a young Slavic model and got a completely different vibe in person. I laughed so hard I almost spilled my drink.
Then I opened up about a previous date I ghosted because the guy was way too sexually aggressive. Bobby said that should’ve never happened—that I’m a person, not an object. He explained how he can’t even be intimate without emotional connection. And y’all… that was music to my ears. Emotional connection? YES PLEASE.
We eventually touched on our exes—he seems over his, and I’m still working through mine. I told him about Day, how it took me five years to leave. When I got a little flustered talking about my family dynamics (because not everyone gets Latino family culture), Bobby gently grabbed my hands and rubbed them, telling me to calm down. And he kept doing it throughout the rest of the conversation. It felt weirdly comforting, even though I hate being touched usually. He just… made it feel okay.
Bobby noticed my santo bracelets and asked about them. I opened up about my struggles with suicidal thoughts and explained how the bracelets are spiritual reminders of protection and strength. He listened, really listened. No judgment. Just quiet understanding.
After all that, we walked around the store. Bobby kept leaning his head over my shoulder while browsing the shelves, and I didn’t even flinch. Physical closeness like that usually makes me uncomfortable, but somehow with him, it felt nice. Safe.
Before we left, he said I was a fun person and that maybe next time, we could visit a cute little bookstore near where he lives. I said yes.
And that’s the story of my sweet, slightly unexpected bookstore date. Maybe it’s nothing, or maybe it’s the beginning of something warm and slow and good. Either way, I’m glad I went.
Scarlette Febles 
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