The tie just won't sit straight. Why is he even wearing one? His Ma is nowhere to be seen and it's not like he's at a funeral. Though staring at himself in the bathroom's mirror and failing in the simple task of even straightening his own tie does kind of make him want to throw himself in front of the nearest moving vehicle.
He's wearing it for Mindy, he tells himself, passing the heel of his hand across his forehead to stave off the sweat. Shirt, tie, smart blazer, dark jeans. Nothing too fancy, so she knows there's room for improvement, but nice enough for her to realize he's made an effort.
They have been on hundreds of dates before, he can see that now, but back then, neither of them had acknowledged the time spent together as that. A date. Suddenly they slap a name on what they're doing and Danny finds himself heading straight for the bathroom almost as soon as they'd sat down at their table. He had brought Mindy somewhere a little upmarket because surely that's the way to make this thing they've started, this new aspect of their relationship, official? Judging by the way his stomach is twisted in knots, however, he would much rather be chilling on the couch with her in scrubs, eating dry chicken nuggets and watching whatever crap she'd chosen to torture him with on any given night.
Taking a deep breath, he checks his watch, mentally calculating how long he's been in here. Fingers that are usually so nimble tug at the loop around his neck with renewed speed, undoing it for the third time just so he can retie it again.