I appreciate your patience, my dear readers. I always have a lot to say, and I know you've been waiting for the "First Date" story with The Trainer.
Let me map out that day for you. I had plenty of activity to keep my mind sane up until we were to meet that afternoon. It was Memorial Day, so while most people were sleeping in, nursing a hangover, or barbequing, I was lacing up my shoes to run a 5K. After abusing my body with my best race time (43:00. I'm slow but consistent), I also met my friend to join her Zumba class.
Here was how I justified all this: Let me get out my nervous energy out now, and have less to throw up out of anxiety later. I was treating my first date nervousness like a nuclear threat. I had an emergency text ready for my friends in case it went south, I made sure the date was close to home, and I made sure if anything did happen, I had witnesses.
It's also worth noting that is the first time in a while that I've been nervous for a date. I've been on bad first date after bad first date. I wasn't nervous for them. I think in retrospect, I treated them as rights of passage. Everyone should go through at least one bad first date just so it builds character.
So after soaking my cardio-weary body in a hot shower, I made genuine efforts to look and smell like a girl again. I remember my first date with OGM. I didn't know what I was going to wear and had a mini panic attack...or two. This time around, I knew what I was going to wear. That was the easy part. The hardest part was staying in the park long enough to wait for him and not feel the need to bolt.
So I sat there, near a fountain, hair somewhat done, sundress, and flip flops on, feeling the Florida heat cut evenly with little breeze. Then it hit me.
He's going to be here in five minutes.
It's hotter than a hooker in church.
We agreed to meet at a park.
I put in at least 5 miles today.
Suck it up, cupcake. You have that text ready to go.
I clutched my purse close, shoulders raised high. I felt his presence. Even if I had to, I wouldn't be able to send out the text on time. Slowly I stood from the fountain where I sat, thinking don't trip, don't trip, don't trip. With nervous smiles, we said hello, and he gave me a hug.
Truth be told, that was fairly unexpected. Welcome, but unexpected.
But then he wouldn't look at me. He was talking to me, but not looking at me. Maybe he was nervous...
After we started to loop the park, I thought I'd better give him a tour of the area. And if I kept walking, I could concentrate more on that than throwing up granola chunks. We started reciting our past conversations about movies, tv, music, anything we could muster.
Then the heat. Steam rising from concrete, bake-cookies-on-your-dashboard heat. Luckily there was an antique store with A/C. I figured it would make for an interesting study. What would he find here that he would talk about, and would it really make me reach for my phone.
As it turns out, we started talking a little more, finding pregnant pauses less and less. We started to venture around after cooling off, and found ourselves making our way into downtown. Side-by-side, not missing a beat in anything we talked about. It was only then that I was less concerned about where my phone was and more concerned about the heat. Luckily I checked later. My make-up held up. I was sweating enough to drown a village. I'm glad that wasn't an issue.
We started talking about our races. His eyebrow raised when I told him what I had done earlier that day. He started to feel bad about walking everywhere. What was another five miles, right?
Naturally all that activity made us hungry, so we ended up at one of the few places open on Memorial Day. It also happened to be where CSB and I went often. Luckily that didn't leave a bad stain. I still knew most of the servers there.
After The Trainer laughed at the fact that they were out of pretty much everything I usually get, I playfully slapped his arm. Oh, that's an arm. FOCUS! Then he said something that made me start liking him even more:
I think it's great. You have to think outside of the box.
Interesting. I have a challenge now. He's challenging me. It's a small way to do it, but nonetheless, he is giving me banter.
At any rate, we were still going on about everything under the sun. I caught one of the servers I knew peering over the bar taps, curiously staring at us. How many ways can you visually send I'm-on-an-awesome-date signals without being obvious? I turned around from our booth at the window and noticed the sun was gone. Woah....what time was it?
Six hours. Six hours later we were still there. I noticed my phone dinging. It turns out my best friend sent me rapid fire texts throughout the day.
Afternoon: Hope it goes well!
Early evening: Still going?
Late night: OMIGOD PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE STILL ALIVE!
I had to sneak a text back to her. She was pleased to know firstly that some crazed lunatic didn't kidnap me. And secondly, she was glad it was still going.
We both remembered we had dogs to tend to. So he took me back to my car at the park, and we sat under a lamp post. He asked if I was up for a second date. I told him I was free that week and thanked him for a wonderful time. Another hug and we went into our separate cars.
I was perfectly content at that very moment. My windows down, I turned on the radio, and sang along. He wanted to see me again...just as I wanted to see him too. These are the simple things people enjoy and relish. And I finally had my turn. My legs were weary, and my eyes were heavy.
My heart was pulsing like fireflies in the park.
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