The work week rolled around and I was happy to know I had two dates to look forward to on Thursday and Saturday. The rest of the week was filled with my weekly ladies dinner, kid stuff and domesticated duties. Then I get a phone call around 1 in the afternoon. “Hey, so I need to cancel on Thursday.” Here we go I thought. I knew it was too good to be true. Of course he made two plans, so that he could cancel one if need be and still have the weekend one in place. Like he was covering himself. “Oh” I said. “Yea remember I told you I loved Fantasy football? Well, I have a draft on Thursday that I can’t miss, so I was thinking. I know it’s last-minute but would you like to go to a baseball game with me tonight?” First off, he was lucky I was a football loving kind of girl because I understood the importance of a draft. I love the stats, the players, the quiet ones that may make their mark on a season. But really? You are going to cancel? You didn’t know you double booked? And baseball? I hate baseball. I don’t actually hate it, but I have zero interest in it, but what the heck. I like beer and peanuts and the national anthem so why not.
“Ok, I’ll go with you tonight. But please remember in the future that I hate last-minute plan changes. They actually cause me physical illness.” So we were all set. He was to pick me up at my house right after work, we would grab a quick drink and bite to eat on our way in to the game and then enjoy an evening of slow-moving action of overweight men dressed in a silly costume. I would try to keep an open mind. I ran home after work to get myself together. What does one wear to a baseball game? Jeans? Certainly not heels and a clutch right? I put a low-key outfit together that still made me look semi dressed up and was ready for him to pick me up.
He arrived and I got in his car and off we went. It was a tiny bit strange for me to not have my car as I always have my car in case I need to make a quick getaway. This time I was leaving it to chance. We chatted and laughed from the minute I got in the car. There was no lack of communication and telling of our histories. It had definitely gotten off to a good start. We got to the first bar and sat down and talked about where we went to school, he was in the service and I like a man in uniform. I was making the connection to things we had in common. He had kids, I had kids, he liked beer, I liked beer. I was hoping there were more things that would pop up as the night went on and they did.
It appeared we had a general moral fiber that seemed to be totally in sync. We both thought family was important, but more so that we were a part of one not because we were obligated to be, but because we wanted to be. We both had strict rules that although no on in my house seemed to follow, they were still there. We headed into the game and as we got out of the car in the parking lot he grabbed my hand. It was cute and I think sent a wave of excitement shooting through me. The minute his hand touched mine it was like an electric shock. Like a sign saying, keep him. We laughed and chatted some more and as we watched the game he had his arm around me and he did it. He went in for the kiss. It wasn’t weird or awkward or uncomfortable. It was smooth like Sunday morning. It was passionate without being overbearing. It was like a soft gentle breeze on a summer’s day and I wanted more of them.
After the kiss or a few kisses he looked up at me. And he smiled. A shy, yet certain smile that said “I plan on doing that again.” And I couldn’t wait for that to happen. As the game ended and our time to leave was upon us he asked if I had a good time. I did. And I said “My face hurts from laughing so much,thank you” And he said “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me” Is this really happening?
