Friday Night Date

Michael and I (are you throwing up yet?) have been talking for a month and seeing each other for about two weeks. He's seen more improv shows in this time than in his entire life prior to me. And yet, when I tell him that I'm spending most of my Friday night at the theatre, he's happy to join me for another round of "Look at those crazy improvisers go!!!"

The difference is that on this date, he'll be meeting ALL of my friends. Now, I know that you don't typically introduce someone you've only just started dating to your friends so soon, but they've already heard soooo much about him. I'm pretty sure that they think he's Saint Michael by this point. A man who makes me smile this much? Definitely heaven sent. *Note: they would say a man who puts up with me for longer than a week is an angel, but I choose to ignore those comments :-)

He comes straight to the theatre after work and doesn't hesitate to kiss me in the lobby before the show. I'm running lights and sound for the first group up so I won't even get to sit with him and watch (sad face). My girlfriends have promised me that they'll take good care of him in the audience for me so in we go. "This is Awkward: Tales of Love, Lust and Lubrication" is a hysterical storytelling show about dating in New York. All ridiculous, bad dating stories told by four performers on stage. These are their personal tales and in answer to your question, yes, I'm hoping to be a part of the show soon. Lord knows there is no shortage of stories on my part. The difficulty I would face would be in narrowing down which story to tell! Voting to follow...

After that, my three girlfriends (and Michael and I) head down to a gorgeous wine bar on 19th. I've never been here before but it came very highly recommended by my favorite city girl who always knows what she's talking about and I trust her implicitly. We all order a glass of Spanish wine and a toast is made (not even by me) "To Michael for putting up with all us girls tonight and for making Kimberly so irrefutably happy." This? Is why I LOVE my girlfriends. They just get it.

Michael and I (sorry but it doesn't stop anytime soon) share a few appetizers, splitting plates and cutting tiny portions of delectable tapas in half. He rests his hand on my knee and sneaks me sideways glances and smiles every few minutes. He's fully engaged in conversation with these women and they fire multiple questions at him. Not in an interrogative way, just in a "we want to get to know you to see if you're really good enough for our friend" kind of way. We all know that love is blind so having three extra pairs of eyes helps you see clearly what you're really getting into. He's sweet, funny, polite, charming, and downright likable. One girlfriend even referred to him afterwards as wholesome which I absolutely adore. He is just that. Wholesome and perfect for me.

When one additional friend shows up, the waiter claims that he does not have any more chairs and my friend will have to stand. Michael finds this entirely unacceptable but he does not say so to the waiter. Instead, he simply asks another table with three girls if they're using the fourth chair. If not, could we please borrow it? They are not using it and the chair magically appears at our table so everyone in our party can be seated. This is where the thoughtful part of him sweeps me right off my feet. I honestly think that if I wasn't sitting down myself, I would have full on swooned.

We walk back the three blocks to the theatre Noah's Ark style: two by two. Michael and I are in the middle with two friends in front and two friends in back. I hear giddy schoolgirl giggles coming from behind us and when I turn around to see what those two idiots are laughing about, they're point to Michael and I holding hands and making doe eyes at us. That's when I realize one friend (whom I could either hug or kill at this point) is taking a photo of us with her camera phone to document how freakin cute we are. I know it's gross. Please don't hurl on your computer.

We make it through another ridiculous improv game show (I heart Jack Hubbard, Jr) and Michael and I split off on our own for the rest of the night. We find this awesome bar / lounge / pool hall between the theatre and Penn and duck in there for a quiet drink and late night snack. The waitress seats us at a tall, cushy, red nylon booth in the back and we fold ourselves into each other. It was amazing having Michael meet my friends but I'm even more thrilled to have him all to myself right now. We talk and kiss and kiss and talk until I've missed the midnight train and he orders us another round because it'll be 1:30 in the morning before I can even get the LIRR back home. He refuses to let me wait at the station alone even though I know he's been awake since 6 am, worked all day, then came out to see me all night. I promise him that I'll be fine, I have a book and it's perfectly safe but he insists on staying with me until my train pulls out. Proof that chivalry isn't dead after all.

He walks me to the station and before we go in, he pulls me really close into him and whispers "Come stay with me tonight." I can't. I know I can't. But it's really, really tempting. Just knowing that he wants me to stay over sends shivers throughout my whole body and I have to pull away before I find myself inadvertently saying yes. It's not necessarily that I want to sleep with him. It's that I want to wake up with him.

I extract myself from his embrace and put my reluctant ass on a train back to Long Island before I have a moment to change my mind. I tell myself that he's already gotten on the subway back to Astoria and I have to go home. I have to go home. I have to go home! ... Don't I?

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010