Sunday, 23 November 2014

The Best First Date Ever

As a follow up to The Best One Night Stand Ever, I decided to also write The Best First Date Ever. Enjoy!

You’ve been searching all evening, yet nothing makes sense, nothing seems good enough. Your closet is empty. You have nothing to wear to meet him tomorrow. You want that perfect mix of sexy, yet classy, cute, but beautiful. “You want him to drool, but in a good way” outfit is actually impossible to find. You finally opt for your best black skinny jeans, off white blouse, great statement necklace and your sexiest black booties you picked up last week for this exact opportunity. It doesn’t scream “I tried too hard”, it screams “I am a confident bitch who can do anything yo, but im real sweet too”. For this first date, that’s exactly what you were going for.

You met him at this event your friend was planning to raise funds for her ski race in a month. A “donate $20, get a free drink and mingle” bar event. He was sitting at the bar with his friends, spotted you, sent you a drink. And voila. Seed was planted. You both spent the evening chatting about tout et rien. He was witty, fun and smart. Of course, he looked pretty dapper in his blue shirt and dark jeans and killer Converse. Not to mention a ridiculously tamed Bilzerian beard that seems to be the craze these days, but you didn’t care that his facial hair is mainstream. He’s sexy. He bought you a drink. He’s yours for the taking.

He texts you the next day with a great song you were both trying to figure out the night before. Conversation evolves into an old school hip hop banter where you both text in lyrics. His texting skills are on par. YES! He’s witty, interesting and you can hardly concentrate on your work because you’re too busy entertaining this handsome bearded man. He’s probably living the same thing.

He asks to take you out. You calmly accept. Meanwhile, you are yelling out loud, and screeching like a 12 year old girl. He probably knows this. Yet, both parties are staying cool, calm and collected text wise. Ah technology.

Are you busy tomorrow? he asks. 

Tomorrow. Shit. You have plans already. Yet. What do you do? You cancel your life. You really want to see him again. Infatuations lead to crazy decisions. We all know this.

He picks a place, and tells you he will only text it later right before said rendez-vous. You try to go back to work, but you both can’t stop making each other laugh. Your cheeks hurt from chuckling. You continue to write to each other non-stop until said rendez-vous. What an unproductive 2 days of work. But, you don’t really give a shit.

“Burgundy Lounge. 6:30pm. We be 5a7ting. See you later Sparky.” Sparky is our nickname. Yes. We already have nicknames. How that happened so fast? You aren’t too sure. But you love it.

It's 6:00pm and you could barely sit still. You are nervous that something is going to go wrong. This seems way too good to be true. You leave early. You are meeting him there. You get to your car, fix up your make-up, change into your sexy booties, and wait a little because you’re going to be too early. 

You talk to yourself for the entire drive there: Be cool, calm and collected, woman. COOL, CALM and COLLECTED esti.

The Lounge is dark, sexy, not too busy. He’s already sitting at the bar. Smart man. He looks even better than how he did when you first met. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, with a stunning purple tie and pocket square to match. His style is impeccable. His outfit is totally drool worthy. 

He sees you, and flashes you his billion (no, not just million) dollar smile. “Looking good Sparky.” he says. This is starting off well.

Conversation is seamless. You both talk about your life, old school hip hop, travels, family, friends and how you both are Christmas junkies. His stories are so interesting. He’s a self-made man, the first of his family to graduate from university, and you truly admire him. You admire his brain, his culture, his humor, his smile. And, it seems that he admires you back. He listens to you with a smile. 

He makes you laugh. 

Your cheeks hurt. 

“So I got us reservations at 9pm at Tapestry”, he hints in after drink 2. Simply the coolest, newest restaurant in town! You have been dying to go ever since you heard they opened. And, lucky you, you get to share this moment with this handsome bearded man. #winning

You finish off your Lounge evening with a Scotch before bumping in to some of your friends. He introduces himself with class and wit. “She’s been behaving so far. If she continues, I might let her eat,” he tells them. You all giggle. You give him the “sorta insulted but not really” push on the shoulder, “HEY!!”. He flashes his one billion smile back you, you get a little weak in the knees but you’re hoping your sexy booties will keep you up.

You get to dinner, and are immediately served a glass of Champagne. Perfection. 

You have similar culinary tastes, you discuss your love for food and you promise to make him your world-renowned meatballs (by world, you mean your friends are your world.). 

BUT. He orders the worst wine on the menu. Sommelier did a horrible job recommending something good. You laugh it out. 

The waiter drops some food on your beautiful blouse. FUCKKKKKKK!

You are about to lose your shit. 

Yet, he cracks a joke, telling you how awesome you still look despite your new butternut squash puree accessory. "It's a creative touch", he adds. You smile. He's soothing. He's kind, yet a little tough with the waiter.You like him. And you're proud of yourself for keeping your cool. 

Dinner finishes at midnight, but you aren’t ready to go home yet. 

You cleaned off your butternut squash with some soda water. You are ready for anything. You want to savor every single minute you can spend with him. You head to another bar in the area. 

You grab on to his arm as you leave the restaurant. It's a little more cool outside than it was when you first walked in. He pulls you in closer. You feel the cold air on your face, but you feel perfectly fine wrapped in his arm close to him. Cold weather ain't got nothin on you. 

You get to the bar, and it’s almost empty, but it’s dimmed lightly, and it doesn’t matter who is there. Right now, you are both simply enjoying each other’s company. 

You order a couple Hendricks sodas at the bar, you decide to pick up the bill (you feel like you should contribute at least a little..!) 

You are both close. Very close to each other. Almost swaying together to the music in the background. 

His hand is on your back to make sure you don't get walked into by a group of people who're behind you. His touch is perfection. You are both looking at each other, talking about nonsense because you both know what’s coming next.

He kisses you.

And of course. It’s perfection.

You don’t usually kiss on a first date, especially not in a bar, but you guess you can make an exception. His lips. Damn yo.

You are both a little tipsy and can’t seem to keep your hands off each other. You don’t want to take it too far, because, well, you really like him. Your internal struggle kicks in. Do I go back home with him, do I not? You decide not to. Smart girl.

He puts you in a cab and asks you to text him when you get home. Smart man.

You do exactly that. He answers you. “Happy you got home OK. Thanks for making my night awesome. Sleep tight :)”. You could melt. At this point, you’d be a puddle.

You are home. In bed. On cloud 9. Thinking about the not so perfect chain of events, yet how this was the BEST. FIRST DATE. EVER.

Absolute perfection.


(Hope you enjoyed my little short story. Feel free to share some of your best date stories! I love hearing them, and that's how I get inspired to write these. All stories are fiction, and are helping me write my novel!)