March 12, 2008

Our first date

The other day in the car, Keeper and I were reminiscing about our first date. By the time we had finished recounting the details, we were giggling. It was not an auspicious beginning.

First, there was the fact that it took him three weeks to call me after we met and he took my number. I had already written him off. Finally, he called and asked me to go to an early evening performance of a new play. He would pick me up at 6:00.

Twenty minutes before the appointed time, the doorbell rang. It was my future husband, and he was very early. I let him in, apologized for not being ready, and left him to his own devices. I retreated to the bedroom and looked for something to wear that would complement his brown polyester Sansabelt slacks. I could only find natural fabrics, so I settled for a green paisley skirt and a black sweater.

I re-emerged to find my date conversing awkwardly with my sons, then aged 10 and 13, who had abandoned their game of Monopoly to check out the stranger.

I hugged the boys, repeated last-minute instructions about acceptable behavior while they were on their own, and we were off.

Jim led me proudly to his car, a Volkswagen Rabbit which had seen better days, and I made appropriate noises of appreciation for the excellent gas mileage he reported.

We arrived at the theatre 20 minutes later, a full hour before the performance was to begin. The theatre was housed in an art museum, with acres of lovely grounds. He suggested we stroll around, and I agreed, despite the fact that it was muddy and my ballet flats were likely to be ruined.

At last, it was time to go inside. I surreptitiously scraped my shoes on the stone steps of the museum while he got the tickets. We entered the theater, a small room in the basement with seating for 60.

"What is this play about?" I asked as we found our seats.

"It's about toxic waste and its effect on mankind," answered my Dream Date.

"Oh," I said with a puzzled smile.

When the play was over-I remember lots of wailing and moaning-we walked back to the rusty Rabbit. On the way home, my stomach was growling. I hadn't eaten for nine hours and all that talk about chemicals had made my hungry.

I didn't want to be rude, but was this guy intending to feed me? It was 9:30 and he hadn't offered me so much as cheese-on-a-toothpick.

I decided to take matters into my own hands.

"Would you mind stopping for a bite to eat?" I asked. "I haven't had dinner."

He was visibly shaken. I had switched things up on him. He stuttered a bit, saying that he had eaten on the way to my house.

"There's a pizza place off the next exit," I said. Decorum be damned--I was starving.

We stopped for pizza and salad, he drove me home, and he stayed until 2 am, when I told him that I really had to get some sleep. He gave me an awkward kiss and I turned on the porch light so he could find his way back to his beloved Rabbit.

Twenty years later, we're sitting in the car chuckling about our rough start.

"Let's see," says Keeper. "I was way early, I made you get your feet wet, I took you to a play about toxic waste, didn't think to feed you, and didn't know when to leave. How did I ever get a second date?"

I looked over at Keeper Husband with a grin. "I liked your car," I said.