After two weeks and a healed back, I took Pj to see Charles Busch’s new play The Divine Sister. We met for a quick drink before the play and did the typical second date chit chat. Since it was a school night and the play got out at 10pm, I was ready to hop on the train and send myself home. I don’t know if it was the two hiatus between dates but I still felt like maybe Pj wasn’t interested in me. Then out of the blue, Pj turns to me and asked if I was hungry. “Yes!” I hoping my responses would sound surprised and excited but I think it reeked of desperation.
We walked the streets of SoHo and found a cute little bistro. As we chatted something reminded me of Pj’s initial response to my status, so decided to test the waters. I am not typically someone who likes to shakes things up or who creates confrontation. I could see myself falling for Pj and I wanted to be sure he was okay with me being positive before I let myself fall any further. I somehow found away to mention the medication I am taking. Not out of the blue. It actually fit into our conversation. Seriously, it did. No sooner than the words escaped my lips, I could see his expression subtly change. Maybe the second date was not the time to do this. I did my best back peddling and changed the subject to the first thing that entered my mind: theatre. Now this is a dangerous topic for me. I have very strong views and get incredibly over animated. Right in the middle of a diatribe of the magic of Stephen Sondheim, I become aware of myself, abruptly stopped and apologize for my geeking out. “That’s ok. I like it. You are quite adorable when you get worked up.” I softly smiled and blushed but inside I was screaming “He likes me. He really likes me!” After dinner he pointed me to my subway, hugged and kissed me on the cheek. On the cheek again? “I don’t get it. Did my hair get flat? Did I stumble into some bad lighting?”