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"They also have Connect Four."
If you want to at least try being outside together to see how it holds up, without making any major experiential commitments or expectations-upping financial transactions; or if you’re still in the tear-each-others’-clothes-off stage but want to attempt a decently rounded evening, try this, or at least however much of it you get through before cabbing it back to your candlelit bedroom and suede water mattress.
5:30pm: The enclosed booths opposite the bar at the dimly lit Black Rabbit (91 Greenpoint Ave) are ideal for canoodling, if you’d like to hedge your bets. They also have Connect Four.
7pm: Santa Fe (366 Union Ave) has potent tequila cocktails and light Mexican fare, so you can steep yourself in the aphrodisiacal powers of the chili pepper without unsightly bloating.
8pm: Videology (308 Beford Ave) probably has a DVD of Terence Stamp and Julie Christie in Far From the Madding Crowd, the film with which humanity achieved Peak Hotness.
The Cyclones don’t start up again until summer, and the Nets don’t move here until next season, so unfortunately there are no Jumbotrons at your disposal.
6:30pm:If you’re going to drop a knee, quite honestly, you should do it somewhere with personal significance to you and your beloved. Why would you take proposal advice from a free magazine? This blurb is probably being written by an intern whose most successful relationship lasted for seven glorious minutes in the bathroom at Sophie’s. But ok. The River Café (1 Water Street), in the armpit of the Brooklyn Bridge, with its dazzling Manhattan view, is maybe our borough’s schmanciest restaurant. Here’s what you do: make a reservation for two. Stand your date up. Call, say, sorry I’m running late. “Are you near music?” Say, “What do you mean?” Her: “It’s just that I thought I heard—no, I do hear Peter Gabriel’s ‘In Your Eyes.’ It’s getting closer!” Say, “Oh, that. Well, look outside.” She goes to the window. Boombox. Arms. Bam. Grandkids.