Ok, where did I leave off...? So, he picked me up in the middle of a raging snowstorm, and we went to dinner. And it was...fine. We ate some tacos, we talked a bit, and he had me back home again not an hour and twenty minutes after we had left. Not horrible, but not exactly anything to write home about either. So, I was a bit surprised when he texted me minutes after dropping me off, telling me he had had a great time, and he would love to see me again sometime. Sure, I replied. I mean, why not, right?
And then he began texting me all the blessed time. Texts in the morning, texts at night, and everything in between. Man, these boys sure do love their texting, I thought. He wanted to know what was up, how I was doing, my favorite color, and if I liked any sports. It all got to be a bit much, and finally I just said, Look, I'm better at this kind of thing in person than I am over text.
Ok. When can I see you again? he replied.
Probably next weekend, I said.
And so, other than one or two more just checking in-type texts throughout the course of the week, I didn't hear much at all from him until Friday afternoon, when he proposed this: Do you want to drink some wine and watch a movie tonight? I paused. I had no idea how to answer that question. No, I absolutely do not want to drink wine and watch a movie with you tonight would have been honest, but maybe a bit too abrupt. How about, That sounds great, but not with you? Or, not with you yet, anyway. I mean, I barely knew the guy, and already he was angling for a couch date? Who are these guys these days, I wondered, who take you out on one date and then think they can get in your pants? And was there any way I could say what I actually wanted--No, I want you to take me out on a real date--without coming across as some kind of high maintenance Rules-type girl? I needed backup on this one, and so I picked up my phone and called my friend Pete.
"Well, you have a few options," he said. "You can say 'no, that's a terrible idea, let's do something else,' or you can say that you can't tonight, and propose an alternate activity for tomorrow, or you can just say that you think it's a bit soon for that, and then suggest something else for tonight."
"Wait, I can say that? I can say it's a bit soon for that? That's ok? It's not too...?"
"Of course you can say that. If a guy likes you he's going to want to see you, and he won't care what you do."
"So I can say, 'I think it's a bit soon for that, how about we go drink wine at this wine bar instead?'"
And so that's just what I did. Luke, as predicted, did not have a problem with that. When we arrived the place was packed full of middle-aged jazzercisers (for real, I asked), and yet we still managed to snag the best seat in the house, planting ourselves on the couch right in front of the fireplace. We talked, we flirted, we drank too much wine. In other words, it was pretty much perfect. The place emptied and we finally made our way out, too. In the parking lot, saying our goodbyes, there was no hesitation--he leaned down, and he kissed me. And it was good! Oh heavens, hallelujah, it was good!
"I have to go to my parents' house to help my dad out tomorrow," he said. "But have lunch with me before I go?"
In my swoony, post-kiss state I probably would have agreed to anything, and so, "Mmmhmm," I replied.
And so we did, going to the little restaurant on the lake that he had proposed for our first date. "Can I see you tomorrow, on my way back from my parents' house?" he asked. And for some reason, I said yes again. It's what he says at the end of most of our dates. "Can I see you tomorrow?" Sometimes I say no, but a lot of the time I say yes. More and more I say yes.