Friday night came and I was ready for my date with a model. I still couldn’t believe it. Deep down inside I was pretty sure there had been a mistake and I’d show up for a date and it would turn out she thought she was booking me to drive her and some other guy on their date. As I drove down through the unfamiliar subdivision in Springfield’s west side I was trying very hard not to get lost and somehow manage to land at the right house at the right time. I stopped in front of a bungalow with dark, chocolate coloured siding, two big trees out front. I looked down at the piece of paper I’d written down the directions and address on, took a deep breath, turned off the car and got out and walked to the front door.
I rang the bell and ran my hands down my jeans to wipe the sweat off the palms of my hands. When the door opened I think I jumped a little. The screen door swung out and I looked as the Model opened the door for me.
“Hi!” she said.
“Wow!” I said, looking up at her. “Not cool,” I thought, “not cool.” “I mean, Hi.”
She laughed and invited me inside. I climbed up the two steps and into the entryway. And her dad was standing right there. I wondered if he heard the ‘Wow!’ and hoped he hadn’t because I’m not sure I’d trust a guy with my daughter who said, “Wow!” when she opened the door.
“Brian, this is my dad,” she made the intro and stepped out of the way for the handshake.
“Hi Brian,” the Model’s dad said, “Nice to meet you.”
“Uh, nice to meet you too.” I said and silently thanked God that my voice hadn’t cracked when I spoke (which it did and still does at the most opportune times based on the potential to most bring embarrassment to me). I returned his firm handshake, resolved not to let go until he did. Which left us shaking hands in the entryway for an uncomfortably long amount of time while he started me on the where, when, and what questions.
“Where are you taking my daughter?”
“Um, out, to a, uh, movie and for pizza with some friends and, uh, stuff…”
“When will you have her home?”
“I, well, uh, whenever you want me to…”
“Good answer. Alright, have her home by 2 a.m., have fun,” he said to his daughter and clearly not to me, “be careful.” The ‘careful’ was definitely directed at me and he finally let go of my hand when he said it.
She grabbed a leather jacket, kissed her dad on the cheek and we were out the door. I opened the door for her, she got in and I walked around to the driver’s side. There were things I was thinking as I opened my own door and slid into my seat. First, her dad really freaked me out and I had started thinking he wasn’t ever letting go of my hand. Second, I was sweating a lot and I hoped she didn’t notice. Third, I had a Model in my car and we were going out on a date. As I sat down and turned the key in the ignition I looked over to make sure she was still there, smiled at her and started the car.
The date itself went pretty well. When we went to the movie I was conscious of the fact that every other guy there was checking out the Model I was on a date with and it was kind of cool and creepy at the same time. She was laughing at all the right places as we talked and she seemed to think I was as funny as I thought she was beautiful. And that pretty much worked for me.
As the movie started and the lights went down she reached over and grabbed my hand and held it throughout the show. This was incredible. I’d just been spared the painfully awkward stretch of time I usually went through figuring out whether to try the arm stretch/yawn move to get my arm around her or the hold her hand by degrees move by getting my hand closer and closer until we were touching and eventually full on hand holding. I wanted to say, “Thank you!” but I knew that would be reaching to new levels of nerdiness. Halfway through the movie she leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. I turned her way and inhaled. Peaches.
…to be continued… (sorry, life intrudes)