LoveHowTo Blog
The First-Date Surprise
So it turns out dating is different now than it used to be in the ‘80s. Or maybe I'm different now than I was in my 20s. (Duh!) Either way, whenever I meet someone new, I am inevitably surprised by some aspect of our first date.
Sometimes it's the odd question from a near-stranger, like "Would you ever consider moving to Europe permanently?" Sometimes it's the description of a twisted custody arrangement, like an every-day hand-off with a bitter ex and a grown-up-too-soon third-grader. Sometimes it's an inappropriate touch. And sometimes it's just plain TMI, with a litany of past traumas that would overwhelm even the most jaded shrink.
I keep thinking I can't be surprised any more on a first date. At this point, I expect some bizarre confession, some pronounced tic, some second-date deal-breaker. And yet, each time, there it is: Surprise! Something even more unexpected!
For example:
It wasn't a first meeting, because we'd met years earlier. But we reconnected when we both found ourselves single, and made a date to go out to dinner. I headed over to his part of town because, well, that's the kind of girl I am. He had a favorite neighborhood place and I had a full tank of gas (pre-$4.00 a gallon).
Dinner was pleasant: good food, easy conversation. We both decided to forgo dessert, and the check came. He reached for it. So far so good. Then he pulled out a coupon and put it in with his credit card. He made a little joke, something about liking a bargain, and pointed it out to the waitress. She said, "No problem!" and took it away.
A few minutes later she returned bearing a large crème brulee with a candle in the center. She asked me, "Is it your birthday?"
I replied honestly, "No," thinking she was off by a table or two. Then my date spoke up.
"Oh, you can admit it!" he said.
Admit to another birthday? I think not! But then it dawned on me: the coupon hadn't just been for a discount, it had been for a birthday dessert. I had an immediate and sweat-inducing flashback to Howard Johnson's on Central Avenue in Yonkers, NY circa 1972. My parents loved the chain's free birthday dessert program and with four kids had plenty of opportunity to avail themselves of it. I can still hear the singing (by the waitstaff) and the fighting (my family) at that table. But I digress.
"OK, I admit it," I lied.
"You really had me fooled!" she replied. "I didn't think it was your birthday!"
Yeah, well…
My date checked the tab and realized the bill had been reduced by the price of the dessert, but not by the 20% the coupon also deducted. He sought out the waitress, but she had vaporized. It was 15 minutes before we saw her again, and in that time we unfortunately made substantial progress on that burned lake of eggs, cream and sugar.
The waitress finally returned, and once the situation was explained she apologized and disappeared to correct the error. Another 10 minutes passed, during which time I learned that the coupon had come to his house timed to the birthday of his late wife, who had died a year earlier. It turns out that our dinner had been a sort of tribute to her on her birthday, a way of showing he still loved and cherished her.
We all come with baggage, but mourning is at least not a permanent state. My date had not yet let go of his wife and wasn't yet ready to do so, but he will be when he's sitting across from the right person.
I retain my capacity to be surprised.
by Laura
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
