Sadly, those 2 dates are all I have to go on now besides multiple chat conversations and a handful of text messages. Train guy has said he likes me more than he thought he could like anyone new. He invited me to dinner with his family on his birthday. He invited me out for drinks with his friends cause he is so excited for them to meet me. He's excited to double date with my couple friends. He wants to watch football with my dad and eat my mom's dinner I'm always raving about. He says that people at work look at him "like they look at someone when they know they're smitten." He mentioned his family cruise in July, you know, just in case we're still going out then and I might like to come. He agreed to accompany me to a wedding in August. And then he told me we need to slow down.
Slow down? We've been on 2 dates! How much slower can we go???
Alright, so we're all caught up on Date #1...the kiss that melted me so much that I had to run away? Yes, well we're not doing that anymore. At this point, we simply cannot wait for another chance to see if a second date could possibly go as well as the first. Cause let's face it. Most of them can't.
I try again for the Ciao Baby atmosphere, this time in Massapequa where I KNOW they haven't been burnt down by fire. This is a long drive for him from Manorville but he simply says "you're worth it." We meet and as soon as I'm out of the car, he wraps one arm around my waist and kisses me so that my heart flutters exactly as it did the week before. I am thrown a little off guard at this sign of affection after he admitted I was the only girl he'd kissed on a first date. (Hence he was extra wary of my running away!) Usually, he waits a while, forms a friendship, blah blah blah. My opinion is why waste all that extra time if someone's a crappy kisser? Find out and get it over with! But being the old-fashioned, gentleman that he is, this sentimental display is especially touching and I know it's only because he feels about me the way I feel about him. Which is really excited and a little scared!
Waiting at the bar for 20 minutes seems a routine part of dining out these days. He asks if he can order me a drink and I explain about my affinity for white wine since the tannins in red give me headaches. He grabs a White Zinfandel for me and a Corona with lime for himself and we're left to enjoy each other's company alongside the other couples stranded in this bar / waiting area. Finally, we are seated. He helps me out of my coat. He pulls out my chair. He's talkative, entertaining, actually listens to everything I say. Recalls past conversations and little details I've told him. Knows to tell the waitress I'm allergic to peppers. Makes me feel like in this crowded restaurant, I'm the only person who matters. Does not check out another woman's ass. Not even once! (Sorry, my expectations are still low from past relationships!)
Dinner consists of a rice ball the size of a basketball filled with meat and cheese and topped with sauce. We each order a pasta and again share a dessert. Except this is no ordinary dessert. I order us the Volcano which is 14 scoops of ice cream, in a chocolate box, with walnuts, Oreo cookies, whipped cream, and yes more blueberries. He made so many ridiculous comments and jokes about this monstrosity they call dessert I could hardly breathe. My stomach literally hurt from laughing so hard and not from all the ice cream. We caused enough of a scene that 4 tables around us ordered the same dessert just to see what the big deal was. And despite a solid half hour of chomping through the sugary heaven, it looked like we hadn't made a dent.
After picking up the tab (yet again) he walked me back to my car and kissed me very sweetly. This time, I did not run away. I held on tighter because I didn't want to let go. He'd been everything in a date I always imagined and then some. He was charming, kind, funny, and had arms I could snuggle into and safely tuck myself away until Spring. We drove home our separate ways, texting each other when we'd arrived (cause you know, we still can't call...) and I thought that this was just the beginning of the journey I was finally happy to be on.
So it's been a while (yes, I know WAY too long) since y'all have gotten an update from me. And I must apologize for not "giving the people what they want" as one follower said. These messages are especially for the working mom who is "totally addicted to this blog" and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your devotion and kindness. I can only attempt to live up to your praise. So here goes...
First of all, I put the project on *pause* because as a certain friend cautioned me "What happens if you meet Number 5 and he's The One???" As it turns out, I had been thinking that Train Guy / Phonophobia could, in fact, be The One. How is this possible? Well, despite the self-proclaimed largeness of his head and his death fear of telecommunications, he makes me laugh harder than anyone ever has before. And I'm in improv comedy. This guy has had me in stitches from Day One. And according to a recent poll on Facebook (the source of all my news) 63% of women say they fell for their man not at first sight (7%) and not on the first kiss (30%) but the first time he made them laugh. Just goes to show, looks will fade, sex drive diminishes but we all want a partner who keeps us giggling like little school girls!
Anywho, we finally make a date to meet up for casual Italian and I think of Ciao Baby. Those of us on Long Island know that if you want family sized portions and Sinatra music, Ciao Baby is the place to go. Well, thank God I called ahead because apparently the Ciao Baby in Commack had fire and burnt down. This? This is my luck! Plan B involved Emilio's in Commack on Jericho Turnpike and I have to say, we couldn't have picked a better place. My dearest friend at work recommended it and I made her "Thank You" cookies cause the food was awesome, the ambiance was just what we needed, the waitress was friendly yet unobtrusive... we had an all around great time. It was the perfect start to our perfect first date.
When dessert rolled around, I did the girl thing and asked if he wanted to share a few bites of something with me (preferably with whipped cream) and he admitted to never having a cannoli. I'll say that again. He NEVER had a cannoli?!?!?!?! Well we needed to remedy that situation immediately and thus 3 mini cannoli's were ordered and eaten. The dispute actually came when I informed him that blueberries are a misnomer. They are, in fact, purple. Thus leading to one of my quirks which is that I do not eat blue M&M's because there are no natural blue foods. He decided to pursue this ridiculous train of thought by smashing open all the blueberries on the dessert plate (garnishing our cannoli's of course) with the back of his spoon to prove their "blue-ness". The insides were yellow / white but he insisted the skins were blue and we agreed to disagree. Until a better method was devised for further inspection. Like a blueberry guillotine. Don't ask me why this cracked the two of us up beyond repair. But in his words "it's not a first date until somebody says Blueberry Guillotine."
We went on to play pool. I won the first two games, he won the second two games. We called it a tie. I, because I wanted another date for a rematch, and he, because his male pride couldn't have taken any more beating so early on in the relationship. I think he was just distracted by me bending over the table to take shots. Hence, I got to win a couple of rounds!
Deciding that neither one of us wanted the night to end by 10 pm, we figured on catching a movie. The only thing playing at the time we arrived at the theatre was New Moon which he had already seen. Yes you read that correctly. But he agreed to see the Twilight saga again since I hadn't gotten to check it out yet. When I asked him "Oh, so you're *that* guy?" he replied coolly, "No, I'm the guy who gets to wrap his arm around a cute girl for 2 hours. I don't care what's on the screen." Nicely played.
By 1 am, it had dropped down to 23 degrees and we were both freezing as we crossed the parking lot to our cars. Letting them run for a few minutes allowed us to cuddle in the "do we / don't we" pre-kiss stage of the date. Well, we did and I had to pull away first. He must have thought he'd done something wrong or had garlic breath but I had to get out of there. In that kiss, my heart melted, my stomach dropped and I felt the first flutters of "You're gonna fall for him HARD. Get out before you get hurt." So I jumped in my car, raced home and kicked my own ass for not lingering another minute or two. It had been the perfect evening. The perfect kiss. I was terrified...