Accidental Dating
- Shabana Sharif
- Feb 10
- 6 min read
Updated: Feb 14
How impromptu dates keep my inner romantic alive & waiting for the next
By Shabana Sharif
Image created by Sri Lankan and Canadian artist, Andrea A. Follow more of her work @art.byandrea
I grew up believing in the dream of the Hollywood-orchestrated rom-com and the three-hour-long Hindi musicals with titillating rain sequences and love triangles. A film starring Julia Roberts or Shah Rukh Khan meant tears and a love-filled happy ending were in store. While I knew these movies were silly, with their untimely boy/girl run-ins, trauma bonding, and foreseeable descent into love, part of me still believed in the dream that things would work out.
Adult me now knows all love stories aren’t an uphill battle like romcoms. In reality, finding someone who makes you feel comfortable, is predictable, and calms your nervous system far exceeds an epic, romanticized tale. If you find someone who matches your energy and it feels easy, you may have found a great love.
But where do you meet a great love? By accident? A set-up? Via app? I’ve met great loves and hot crushes everywhere: apps, dance clubs, gyms, public transportation, school/ college, cafes, and yes - even set-ups! Here are a few accidental dates I have encountered locally and traveling abroad.
The Gringo Tico
In the Peace Corps, I felt like I was on the outs before even leaving the country for the 27-month service. My cohort left the US to go to Costa Rica without me due to an eye infection that deemed me “not medically cleared” to leave. When I later joined my cohort during the first week of training in Costa Rica, I felt a deeper divide between myself and the other volunteers who had already bonded over icebreakers, team-building activities, and meal times.
Cliques broke off but, little by little, I connected with my larger cohort. One night, our cohort and the cohort ahead of us, partied together. I found myself dancing and chatting with a young man from the Midwest. He had red hair and freckles and looked very different from the fad-rocking Indo-Guyanese guys I was accustomed to. Of all the volunteers I met, he was the only one who could place my parent’s birth country, Guyana, on a map and knew about Indian Indentureship in the Caribbean. We danced close together, and he cheered me on as he taught me bachata. I felt seen and cared for in his strong arms as we flirted, reggaeton as our soundtrack.
After midnight, we were saying goodbye and he leaned in as the elevator door closed on him. Luckily, the kiss didn’t land for me, my New York boyfriend, and his Tico girlfriend’s sake. It was the best non-date I could imagine. We emailed a handful of times, and shortly later, I left Costa Rica to discover my roots and landed in Delhi.
Delhi Guy
Delhi is one of the most populous places on earth. I shared similar physical traits and blended in seamlessly into my ancestral motherland, minus my clothing and accent. I found a non-governmental organization and was brought on as a volunteer. The goal was to learn Hindi, become a sex educator in the local community, and visit slum apartments to educate inhabitants. The slum I visited was clean with a livable space, far from the TV images of flea and garbage-infested dwellings.
The director of the NGO suggested a (good-looking) young man should show me around the community. Before our stroll, a few workers were testing my Hindi skills. When I was asked to say the Hindi word for house, “ghar,” I replied, and a round of laughter followed. The good-looking young man came to my defense. “She’s correct,” he said, looking peeved at his colleagues.
The handsome man and I walked together and talked about India, the US, and our life goals in the conservative community. Our walk together felt intimate. We stopped at two places, once for coffee and then another for chai. Both hot drinks were served in a clear glass and perfectly sweetened, like the moment. All his follow-up questions were insightful and showed his interest in my opinions. We smiled at each other, held eye contact, and laughed open-mouthed at each other’s jokes. He suggested we take a rickshaw drive back to the NGO. Sitting by my side, our shoulders brushing against each other occasionally, felt like the most romantic thing.
The topic switched from cute and casual to serious when he asked me about citizenship through marriage. I felt deceived. Was he only being friendly for a US visa? Without pausing, I said, “It’s illegal, and you can end up in jail.” The next day, I asked to teach the children at the NGO. I wasn’t prepared for the adults and further humiliation.
The Tool Man
After a tumultuous move into my first apartment, I knew I needed to be better equipped in a home repair jam so I headed to Home Depot for tools. As I entered the screw gun aisle and asked a worker dozens of questions, another shopper intervened and started answering all the questions. I briefly explained my situation and he offered to help me find all the basics. I was grateful, yet my mind was racing with all my new responsibilities alone. He told me he does odd jobs and that I should call if I ever need him. I took his number down, and after I purchased the tools, he asked me to lunch at Panera. Only when we were inside Panera, and he paid, did I realize I was on a date. I replied to his text a day later and thanked him for helping me. I wasn’t emotionally ready for a boyfriend or handyman.
The Father-Son Duo
My son and I went to view the Thanksgiving Day parade the month before my separation. We ran late and hoped to see a balloon or two and soak up New York City holiday energy. On the NJT platform, there was another parent and child pairing heading to the parade too. We boarded the train together and later saw one balloon in the distance. We felt content with the outing. The dad was kind and listened to my son and me; I then realized how much I missed basic kindness. We had another platonic family outing and attended each other’s children’s parties. Our boys were different ages and the connection faded.
The HIIT Man
During my separation, I joined the gym and started taking fitness classes. One attractive man around my age started attending. He wore an infectious smile and his friendliness was contagious. After class, he said we should hang out and I had no reason to say no. We shared a meal and before I knew it, we were grocery shopping and sharing our relationship stories. It felt like the most adult unplanned date. One week later, we went to Lowes together. In the paint aisle, without prompting, he told me who he voted for in the US 2024 presidential election, along with several conspiracy theories. The kind soul who, moments earlier cringed as I came close to hitting a carcass on the highway, transformed into a man I couldn’t recognize. His light from the gym dimmed and so did my feelings.
Each accidental date was a surprise and nurtured my inner romantic. It makes me hopeful that platonic and romantic occurrences are waiting to be nurtured if we are open to fostering them. Two summers ago, on one of the last days of summer, I met a fellow mom at the local pool who also had two children. She and I were also of Caribbean background, her Saint Vincent and me Guyana. We never met previously because she went to the pool later in the day than I did. It was on this rare occurrence we stayed later than we typically did. We started chatting, and before I knew it, she ordered us food from a roti shop I suggested. Two years later, we remain friends, and I consider her family, my family.
Am I going to find the love of my life by accidentally dating? Or another best friend? Who knows? But I’m here for it.
Shabana Sharif is currently working on her childhood memoir – Pagli. Themes include race, gender, religion, immigrant life, blended families, abuse, and neglect in Long Island and Queens, New York. She became a finalist for the 2023 PEN Emerging Voices Fellowship. She was a Tin House 2024 Winter Workshop participant and was accepted as a Tin House 2024 Summer Workshop participant. Shabana is the daughter of Guyanese immigrants, a descendant of Indian Indentureship, and a mother of two children.
Shabana has an Executive Master of Public Administration from Baruch College (CUNY) and an MS in Education from City College (CUNY). She lives outside of New York City. Currently, Shabana is an Essay Reader for The Rumpus and Shabana co-founded Jahajee Sisters: Empowering Indo-Caribbean Women.
website: ShabanaSharif.com
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