Uncle, I say! UNCLE!!
After meeting face to face, smile to smile, and eye to eye, I sadly have to write that Mr. Perfect did not at all maintain his title of Mr. Perfect. Nope.
I arrived late. Of course I did…we’ve been through that obnoxious quirk of mine already, remember?! I received a text as I was parking, but was feeling guilty about my typical tardiness and chose to ignore the text. This particular restaurant/bar/café has three separate entrances to each “section” of the establishment.
I entered the middle one, the Theater Bar, the quaint, narrow little section which boasts local artist’s work on the walls, a beautiful long wooden bar that nearly goes the actual length and almost width of this section, and charming light fixtures, all creating a casually eclectic, yet ,romantic cozy little area.
Other than the bartender, there are only four other people in the place – all males. I coasted past them, glancing casually to see if any look like Mr. Perfect. Nope. None did. And I’m thinking, What the hell? Here I was worried about being late as usual and Mr. Perfect isn’t even here yet! That, OR he he’s one of those guys sitting at the bar and not only looks nothing like his pictures, but brought three friends with him!
I sat down at a small table and ordered a red wine I’d never tried before. While waiting those few moments for it to arrive, I decide to look at my text. Oh lookie there!! …. a text from Mr. P himself. It says, “ I’m on the aquarium side; it seemed quieter over here.”
Ohhhhhh……hmmm…ok….. yeah… ok…. The aquarium side of this terrific place is the oh-so-lovely, timelessly classy, exceedingly romantic, and scrumptiously delicious restaurant area. Okay, okay, okay….I get it. You are on time, in contrast to my lateness, after all; you’re just over there..through that doorway only a few feet from where I was sitting.
So, now is when I walk over there then, right? Yeahhhh…no. I can’t. I just can’t. I’m nervous and I’m not walking over there with my glass of unknown red and risk demonstrating immediately upon his first vision of me being that nasty tumble/trip/clutzy maneuver which is going to dump said red all over me, the floor, or worst of all, HIM! Nope…not gonna happen right at this moment. Can’t go. Can’t do it. We’ll just have to sit on either sides of the old brick wall from each other then, at least til I’ve finished my dangerously red glass of wine in its dangerously breakable glass.
So, I text back that I’m in the bar area and I’ve already ordered a drink. A minute later, around the corner comes this guy… In hindsight, I have to guess my instant and unavoidable facial expression had to have been much like those online daters who go to meet someone in person and they discover at first sight that the profile photo of their date was from at least 10 years and 30 pounds ago. I mean, yeah, I knew instantly it was in fact Mr. P, which was clear. However, with brutal honesty, Mr. P’s profile pics, as attractive as they were (and they certainly were quite appealing), had nothing on Mr. P himself! …and I mean nothing!
OMG…are you kiddin’ me?? BETTER looking in person? WTF? Is this for real?!
Oh it was. he was undoubtedly far more handsome in person. Once I cleared the shock from my system at this incredulous surprise, words cannot convey how very fortunate I felt that I did let Mr. P come around the corner to me rather than Queen Clumsiness herself with her boisterously dangerous glass of said red in hand, sailing around the corner of this quaint little bar and into the elegant, romantic ambience of the attached restaurant…only to come face to face with an unexpected and nerve wracking surprise such as this. It really could have been one horrific scene for the comical archives of online dating first- meets!
All of this is a bonus though, right? A surprise of the pleasant variety without a doubt. Much preferable to its counter-part of possibility at first-meets. Yes, yes, yes…and so it was a bonus. Except for adding to my nervous state of fear of his seeming perfection. What the hell? Good Lord in heaven, he was charmingly handsome, terrific physique, perfect height…..and those eyes! Those eyes…those eyes…they…those eyes…yeah…they….his eyes…ummm…..yeahhhhh…so the eyes…they… ummm….are entitled to….I mean they require…ummmm…a….yeah…they require and demand…
A paragraph all of their own! Ahem…. How to describe these eyes? Start with the basics, Kay. Mr. P’s eyes were a rich green, bordering on hazel green-gold-brown, but with so much green opulence, you almost couldn’t call them hazel with a clear conscience. And I’m fairly certain these were not colored contacts …the color was so rare and unique. These eyes weren’t super small or buggy big, they weren’t too close together or spaced too far..they weren’t too high or too low on his face. They were framed with lush, long, darkish-golden brown lashes. But quite frankly, although yup, I AM a sucker for green eyes anyway (guilty as charged) and no, NO photo could have ever accurately or adequately captured the stunning appearance of these eyes(well, mayyybeeee perhaps with some high tech photo-shopping), none of this was precisely WHY these eyes were so irresistibly captivating, warm, lovely, and compelling all on their own. What was it?
I couldn’t stop looking into them until I solved this beautiful enigma. I mean GOSH, I’ve a creative mind, rather deep comprehension of things real and spiritutal, as well as a fairly extensive vocabulary. Surely I can look at these and pin-point what was doing that!? C’MON!!?? What it was about them. Hell, I’m looking RIGHT at ‘em for crying out loud! What? What IS it about them? I HAD to put my finger on it damnit! There they were – right there– looking intently at me, smiling at me, laughing with me… For Pete’s sake! What’s the matter with me? Could not figure it. Nope. Also could not stop looking at them. And couldn’t stop trying to figure it.
So, the date is beyond lovely. It was a healthy balance of sharing, laughing, listening, and connecting. Ahhh yes, just more perfection it’s to be then, huh Mr. P? You wanna play hardball, do ya? Yea? Huh? Do ya? Well…Uncle, I say, Uncle already!!
This all was so perfect and so ideal in fact that after a while, even his “perfection” itself faded into the background and seemed normal….and with that subtle happening, my extreme nervousness faded back as well. Okay, so I’m sure the second glass of said red helped that latter part some, but regardless… It was easy and charming and comfortable and stimulating and intriguing and delightful and…… OMG! Is this for real?
We talked of so much: kids (he has a son), relationships, college, high school, dreams, goals, some life challenges, some happy and blessed life events. It was just fun!
Around 10 PM (it was a Sunday night after all!), I had to go (let’s hear the collective, “awwwwwww…”). I didn’t want to, but…..gotta do what ya gotta do… I knew he had enjoyed himself. I just couldn’t be certain if he’d enjoyed himself or felt attracted enough to want to see me again. I sure hoped so, but what do ya do?
Well I’ll tell you exactly what my giggly, adoring, captivated inner adolescent wanted to do: I wanted to slip him a napkin note which asked, “You’re so cute! I like you. Do you like me? Mark the box Yes or No”.
The scared woman in me wanted to smoothly thank him for a lovely time, give him a warm, genuine hug which lasted just a few moments too long: not long enough to be provocative or sexy, but not short enough to imply, “Thanks pal….was fun!”. You know, just a wee bit longer than necessary just to be briefly closer to him (yup, I confess, I was a bit googly) and subtly convey my interest, but not so long as to “put myself out there” like, HEY!? GUESS WHAT? YOU’RE HOT MR. PERFECT (please do note the absence of the quotations here) AND I WANT YOU! The dreamer in me wanted to escape quickly in order to not face the possibility that he did NOT find me interesting or attractive enough to want to see again and leave the result of the evening entirely in question, in order to sustain the possibility as long as possible.
Here’s when he says with a big happy smile on his face (and I love this part!), “Yeah, I should go too. Have we really been here four hours? We have! It doesn’t seem like it. Time went by too fast! Not too bad for a first date I’d say!” And guess what? While I’m looking at him saying those words and allowing myself to slowly drink in the positive connotations of that little statement, I finally figure it out!!
His eyes….. yeah, back to that eye-thing… His eyes… (Okay, this definitely requires a cheesy cliché disclaimer and I’m truly sorry, but GOSH, what am I to do? I simply have to call it like it was or my blog is just a load of bullshit.)
His eyes danced. Yes, that was it! The light in his eyes or the restaurant lighting or the I don’t freaking know WHAT…but his. eyes. danced. with. light. Or joy…or geesh, I just dunno……
They danced. It was as if his eyes had their own inner strand of twinkle-lights parading off a body of soft green water! Sparkling and dancing about… And I’m not kidding! It hit me upside the head so hard when I finally realized this, that my don’t-you-dare- be-a-cheesy-idiot-girl filter wasn’t at prepared. Nope, it wasn’t at all prepared and I quite literally exclaimed (yes, exclaimed), “Oh my GOSH…your eyes DANCE!” …felt stupid the minute it rushed outta my mouth. But he was graceful and grinned and said, “Thank you”. Somehow making me not feel like it was nearly as ridiculously foolish as it sounds…and most likely was! Yup, Cheesy Kay burst forth with the girlish exuberance of figuring out this 8th wonder of the world.
They danced…danced as if they had a little giggle/smile all of their own…danced like a teenage crush at their first prom…danced as if he adored me….danced as if his zest for life might become tangible and burst from the depths of his soul…danced as if he was a ravenous sexy beast waiting to deliciously and slowly devour me…all of the above…all at ONCE! They just DANCED!!!!!!!!!!!
Mr. P walked me to my car and I hurried in to it…purposely avoiding that good night kiss moment.
Why? I’m not exactly sure. I did get that sense of his hesitating as in he was hoping for a kiss good night. And I really wanted to kiss him too. But, I think mostly I just wanted to leave perfection at perfection and wait for what might (or might not) be to come…and not push my luck.
Driving home, I regretted my obviously hasty departure, realizing that if he has any intuitive sense, that my haste definitely sent the wrong message. After all, this is my famous move when I want to AVOID the good night kiss because I don’t want someone I’m not interested in to put me in a situation to reject him or falsely lead him on: so very much NOT the case here!! So, I ran through my mind how to counter act my misleading behavior.
I texted him when I got home. “I had a really great time tonight. Thank you so much for dinner. I really like you:)”
Yeah, I said it. Outright and with zero subtlety. And thus, I sat on pins and needles awaiting his response. Nervous, scared…feeling utterly ridiculous…waiting for about three minutes til I get a text from him which says, “I had such a great time with you. I really like you too:) Could we bake cookies together sometime?”
Can we bake cookies together sometime? Can we bake cookies together sometime??? CAN WE BAKE COOKIES TOGETHER SOMETIME?????!!
Ummm, yeah, sooooo Mr. P is coming over this evening (tonight!) for our second date. We are baking cookies!