First dates can be tricky to plan. I am not talking about those coffee/drink first dates, they are more like a pre-date. Those are easy, a bar or coffee shop, maybe where nobody really knows you. I am talking about the really real dates. As is my nature, with someone I like, I tend to go a little overboard.
Philip had been out of NYC for about three weeks, I thought it would be a fun romantic start to our date if we met at the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center. Our date was on a Tuesday, in my mind there wouldn’t all that many people there. We can sip a holiday martini at the Rock bar, staring at all the twinkly lights. Seduced by all the holiday cheer. It would be perfection. Oh, how very romantic comedy of me. Well, when I arrived the comedy started.
My newly New Yorker naïve self had no idea how packed with tourist that place can be, even on a week day. As I approached Rockefeller Plaza and saw the crowd spilling into the street I knew there might be a problem. I pushed my way through screaming kids and uninterested dads, was caught in at least 3 family photos, to get myself a prime spot by the tree. At that point I knew that phase one of my great date plan was doomed.
Philip, a not so new New Yorker, seemed to make his way through the crowd with ease and grace. He approached me with a shy little smile. Wow, he was more handsome then I remembered. Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up! I kept telling myself. We decided to get out of the holiday mess and we quickly made our way out of the crowd.
I thought I would try the “treating his eyes like an eclipse plan.” I did my best to not look directly into those blue eyes. Instead of stammering over my words or my feet or both, I was afraid that I would burst out with:
I get lost in your eyes
And I feel my spirits rise
And soar like the wind..
So I avoided the eyes and the Debbie Gibson. Always a good choice on a first date.
We walked to a small pub had a couple of beers, sat through a mildly interesting play and went for a late dinner. We chatted over our overly fruity drinks. Not only was he handsome, he was a great conversationalist and a true artist. He had this gentle masculinity about him that I found so appealing. He did not know this, but I was working my chosen art form that night. I acted like I didn’t know any the stuff that I had found out about him during my stalking frenzy. “Where did you go to school?” “Where did you grow up?” Each line was nuanced with genuine curiosity. Each beat was crafted with layers of intentions. “What are your sibling’s name?”
Like I didn’t already know.
We walked each other to the subway. He was going one way and I was going the other. He told me that he had a great time. I did too. He came in for a hug. Here was my chance to grow a set and give him a kiss. As I turned my head I caught of glimpse of his eyes and I froze. I FROZE! When I regained consciousness I was on my train. No kiss. No nothing. Now I have to wait until May for another chance for that kiss. MAY! I hung my head in shame for an entire week. All the while this was running through my head:
I don’t mind not knowing what I’m headed for
You can take me to the skies
It’s like being lost in heaven
When I’m lost in your eyes
Damn you Debbie Gibson, Damn you!!