A Memory of First Dates

Thankfully, I am happily married and no longer have to trudge down this long and desperate hallway any more, but for a time, I was a single man destined to attend many first dates. This is one such affair.

I met her at church. She had an easy, comforting smile and a quirky, granola-like personality. She wore the Birkenstocks and cotton sweaters. I'd admired her for several months before I got up the nerve to ask her out. She'd been dating a friend of mine so when they broke up I had to wait the appropriate time before I could proceed.

What to do? A movie? Miniature golf? No. I really wanted to make a good impression. Aha! A play. I went to the trusty Las Vegas Journal Friday Edition where all good things for the weekend are spelled out amidst the gentleman's show ads. There it was. The community theater was presenting "Of Mice and Men". Excellent. I will seem cultured and its not a musical.

She was up for just about anything, so we arranged to meet at the theater. I arrived first and paced nervously hoping I wouldn't be stood up. I wasn't. I cracked a joke when she arrived and she laughed genuinely. A good sign. (The tense shifts)

The play begins. She's never seen it before and can't remember the plot. Excellent. She likes it. She wonders what will happen next. I, of course, know the ending and sense that I should prepare her in some way. She leans forward as they run away. She is on the edge of her seat. I should do something. She will be so disappointed and shocked.

I sense my opportunity. I will place my arm gently on her shoulder so when the shooting takes place I can reassure her in her grief. I quietly lift my arm off of the armrest and begin to extend it out across the back of her empty chair aiming for her delicate shoulder. Then.....

Pow! Lenny shoots Squiggy.

She lurches back toward me in shock and sadness. My elbow. My elbow. In slow motion I see my elbow unable to dodge her pretty little cheekbone. The crunch is heard all the way on the Strip and her face and head recoil in abject horror. Saliva slowly dislodges from her mouth as her pouty lips turn a pretty little black and blue shade.

I...didn't...mean...to...elbow...you...in...the...face.

She looks at me like a deer in the headlights. "So I guess dinner is out of the question?" I quip with a huge hint of defeat.

Typical chick.