Flashback: March 12, 2005

I went shopping with two of my best gal pals for a fabulous shirt, a new denim jacket, and jeans. Then I went home, meticulously applied some serious make up, and did my hair to the best of my ability (which, if you know my hair, and I don't mind saying this, is saying something. I have great hair). I did all this in preparation to go on my first date with a guy I had been trying to get to ask me out for a couple of weeks. I could tell he liked me, but he just wouldn't ask me on a date. Finally, after a couple of very obvious hints (I have never been good a subtle) he asked me out. One a date (not a hang-out) and he was coming to pick me up. I was very excited for this date. It had been a long time since I went out on pure free-will. Everything prior to that was a blind-date. Apparently, when you have good hair, people like to set you up.

My date showed up after I had to go outside and wave him down because of my bad directions, but I went back in the house and made him come to the door. He picked me up and looked pretty good, despite the fact that his shirt was tucked into his jeans, which were pulled up way too high. But I could change that. I mean, jeans are just jeans, right? So, giving myself a last once-over in the bathroom (to make sure my cleavage wasn't slutty, just alluring) we left. And we talked all the way to Mimi's Cafe.

When we arrived to dinner, I didn't know what to do. Do I get out? Or do I wait for him to come open the door? I always have hated the guess work on this one. And personally, I really hated waiting for the guy to walk all the way around the car while I am sitting there perfectly capable of getting out, by myself. So, again, not so good with the subtle, I asked. "Do you want me to wait for you? Or should I just get out?" This guy just looked at me for a clue as to what he should say, and I finally gave him a hint, "I would much rather get out. I hate sitting here by myself."

My date said, "Okay. I sometimes forget anyway."
Me: "Good. Then it's settled. But you should probably get the door for me getting in."
My date: "Good to know."

Usually, with the other boys I dated, this kind of comment would lessen their manhood, and they would think I was bossy. This boy, on the other hand, was just glad he didn't have to read my mind. It was refreshing to have someone realize the value of knowing what I am thinking at all times, instead of getting offended or embarrassed.

We ate at dinner, talked constantly, and completely ignored the other couple we were with. Bet you didn't even realize this was a double date, right? That's how much they didn't matter. Then we went to a hockey game. I had never been to one, and knowing of my penchant for loudness at a game and how it embarrassed all my other boyfriends, I gave this one a warning, "I get really loud at games and sometimes I swear at them."

My date: "Sweet. Then you mind when I heckle, right?" This date was going very well.

We didn't yell or heckle at the hockey game. We talked through the whole thing. Throughout the course of our conversation, we discovered the my grandpa and his grandpa were brothers. That put a damper on stuff for a minute until I realized that my grandpa was not my biological grandpa, but my dad's step-father. So we weren't really related. My grandmother and I just have the same taste in men. Again, when I said this, there was an awkward minute.

Finally, me: "I don' t have a problem if you don't."
My Date: "I don't. As long as we're really not related."
Me: "We're not."
My Date: "Then I'm fine."

He took me home, and we laughed the whole way. He was laughing at me because my laugh sounded funny, and I was laughing because he was the first person I had ever met who laughed louder than I did. It was a match made in heaven.