Buy her a drink

"Hang on a second," you say to Gabrielle, and head up to the bar. There, you order a beer for yourself, and the classiest cocktail you can think of, hoping it will ingratiate yourself with your date.

"Here you are, milady," you say, handing her the glass.

"Thank you," she replies politely, eyeing the olive speared on a cocktail stick submerged in the clear liquid. "Vodka martini?"

"Shaken, not stirred," you quip. "Well, actually stirred, because shaking isn't good in reality. I thought you deserved something a little more classy tonight."

"How... considerate of you," she sighs, going back to picking at her salad.

"Don't tell me you've never seen any James Bond?" you tease.

"No. I haven't."

You sit there for a moment, then take a swig of your beer. You eat a bit more of your burger, and try a few more times to start a proper conversation, but Gabrielle's short, flat answers leave you in the cold. You quickly realise that you need to do something to salvage this crash-diving date, ASAP.