Back in the day, hosts of dating shows always asked the contestants what their idea of a perfect date was. They received answers like, "go somewhere where we can talk and get to know each other." Boring. How over-played is that scenario? Allow me to share what my perfect date would be.
First I would arrive at her parents' house at seven o'clock because that's the time we agreed upon. I would nervously adjust my collar as I anxiously follow the brick walkway past her mother's zinnias and toward the intimidating French doors.
Her dad would answer my knocks by slowly opening the door and staring deep into my eyes. After inviting me to sit on their white sofa in the living room, he would proceed to interrogate me about my future. I will be able to hear the top 40 playing upstairs as my date finishes any last touches to her outfit. The conversation with her father would inevitably lead to him telling me about his gun collection and his love for shooting "weasels." At this point, her mother would step in from the kitchen wearing a floral-print apron to scold her husband.
After a brief introduction with my dates mother, the living room lights would mysteriously dim and Patrick Swayze would croon She's Like the Wind as she appears at the top of the staircase. Our eyes meet and she would look sheepishly to the ground. Just a fool to believe I am anything she needs, she slowly and effortlessly descends the stairs as if on an escalator. He's right. She is like the wind!
While keeping one eye on her father and the other aimed at the carpet, I toe the ground and murmur how lovely she looks. She giggles as her mom makes one more adjustment to her hair and her dad grunts. Mother escorts us to the door and tells us to have fun. As we step into the cool night's air, Father repeats what time she better be home by.
Being the gentleman that I am, I open the car door for her and wave one last goodbye to her folks as I get in on the driver's side. I strap on my seat belt and we're on our way. I keep my hands on 10 and 2 of the wheel and grip tightly trying to hide my balmy palms. We make small talk and she politely laughs at my pathetic attempts at humor as we make our way to the local ice cream shoppe (That's right. Two p's and an e).
A couple is doing the jitter bug to Buddy Holly on one end of the bar and a girl in a red poodle skirt is sitting on the counter on the other end. She has her hand to her mouth and is twirling her piece of gum around and around her index finger as her date, with his slicked black hair and leather jacket, leans against the bar and flirts with her. My beautiful date and I grab two rotating stools near the center of the bar and I order a root beer float with two straws. Extra cherry. Buddy Holly finishes It's So Easy before Chuck Berry teases us with You Can't Catch Me.
The vanilla ice cream and carbonated soda tastes so good. My nerves have subsided and I can finally be myself. We tell stories of our youth. We share jokes we heard the week before. She wipes my chin. She flutters her long eyelashes. When the dessert is finished, my nerves come back. I tell her how much fun I've been having and I ask her if she wants to go up to Lover's Lane. With a nervous giggle, she nods quickly and silently.
We're not alone on the hill that overlooks the night lights of our hometown. A line of cars face the beautiful view and I find a spot in between a green car and a blue pickup before turning off the engine. We sit in silence. No radio. Just silence. I can hear her soft breathing. It's quick and nervous. Without looking, I reach my sweaty hand for hers. My fingers gently wrap themselves around hers and they are met with reciprocation. Without saying anything, I turn and smile at her. This is how we stay for the remainder of the evening.
At 11:15, the brick walkway doesn't seem so long. The zinnias reach for us as if giving an ovation. The French doors aren't nearly as intimidating. We stand on the stoop looking at each other with both hands met. She thanks me for a lovely evening and leans in. My heart races as she applies a soft kiss on my cheek before opening the door and softly closing it behind her. The night is silent and I continue standing there trying to soak it all in.
I skip down the walkway as the zinnias cheer and dance in the night's breeze. The French Doors merrily wave goodbye and the engine roars like a lion. I feel like a lion. Like a king.
"Somewhere where we can talk and get to know each other." Pshh.
oh you are SO sweet. <3
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