Neither of you are here out of affection for each other or a genuine desire to get to know one another, but that doesn't excuse the woeful quality of this date. Not even the posh ambiance of The Imperial can elevate this faux love connection from a glorified trifle to a sizzling flirtation.

You barely know who this guy is, but the brief description your agent gave and your light cyber-stalking of his social media profiles have confirmed one thing: Booster Gold is all about himself. On the surface, at least.

It’s not like you haven’t met enough celebrities who tout their own quirky pseudonyms, but your date acts like it's not just a superhero moniker. 'Booster Gold' being his legal name seems more than dubious. For someone who’s soliloquized the entire past goddamn hour, you’ve learned remarkably little about him. Rather than sharing his background, he’s skillfully derailed any and all questions back to droning on about his adventures since starting the hero gig in Metropolis.

He’s still decked out in his superhero suit beneath an unfashionably long suit jacket and shirt, complete with golden goggles. To top off his outlandish appearance and behavior, his little robot sidekick whirs next to you, in matching Booster Gold colors. The whole premise doesn’t exactly scream ‘charming first impression.’

"And then— boom," Booster declares, lightly slapping his palm on the table. The tableware and glasses quiver slightly from the gesture. "I managed to get away clean and hit two birds with a rock. A real gold star effort. Eh, coach?"

His little buddy—Skeets—buzzes around, zipping from side to side of the table like he's orbiting his superhero. "Kill two birds with one stone, Booster."

Skeets’ correction almost earns him an eyeroll from Booster, but he dismisses it with a bemused smile. It’s like he’s utterly oblivious to how he comes off.