“I went out drinking with my friends,” she explained, “and the next thing I knew, I was on eHarmony.” Because apparently it’s shameful to enroll in an online dating service when not under some sort of chemical influence. Regardless, we started e-mailing back and forth, which turned to instant messaging, which turned to a series of three-hour phone calls.
The little things we had in common were numerous. We both drank the same kind of beer, loved the same band, enjoyed the same restaurants, and, most importantly (at the time) we both were planning to vote for the same person in the 2008 presidential election. At the end of one of the lengthy phone calls, she said, “gosh, maybe we should just go to Vegas and get married…”
I knew she was kidding, so it didn’t alarm me. We both had a good laugh over it, and decided to make date plans for the following evening. We decided to start things off the old-fashioned way, with dinner and a movie. Well, actually, a movie, followed by dinner. But the order isn’t that important.
We met outside the theater, where I was waiting with the tickets. She was very excited to see me and gave me a big hug – not bad for our first in-person meeting. We entered the theater, took our seats, and waited for the movie to begin.
The movie was good, and had all the makings of a wild night in Salt Lake City – we held hands and cuddled. It turned out that she also liked to stay for the credits. Score! Another similarity!
Soon, we were on our way to the restaurant – a very popular chain restaurant specializing in cheesecake. That’s all I’ll say. And because it was a Saturday evening, this restaurant’s popularity was at the peak of its weekly cycle. In the waiting area, we were surrounded by families, groups of friends, and other couples on dates. There were no seats. There wasn’t even a good place to stand. We had to settle for standing under some sort of large potted fern.
Eventually, we were seated at one of the only tables for two available in the restaurant. It was a tiny table, nestled snugly between two larger tables, with no more than six inches of space on either side. To the left was a group of obnoxious sorority girl types, to the right, a family of nine, complete with two middle-aged male know-it-alls and a crying baby in a high chair.
Now I should point out that I hate crowds of any sort. If there’s a group of more than five or six people in any given location, unless they’re friends, you can count me out. I’m definitely more of a one-on-one kind of person. That being said, I was extremely uncomfortable in this seating situation. But I decided to just deal with it. Besides, it’s not like these people were going to invade our space or anything.
“So, you two married?” asked a woman in her 40s at the table with the family. Emily and I were a bit startled.
“Uh, no…” said Emily, “we’re on a date.”
“Oh, that’s sweet!” said the lady. “How long have you two been together?”
“About three hours,” said Emily.
“Marge!” the lady hollered across the table to an older woman, “These two are on their first date! Isn’t that adorable?”
“Awww, that’s sweet,” gushed Marge. “My Jerry, rest his soul, took me to a wrasslin’ match on our first date.”
God rest his soul? Awkward. How does one even respond to that?
Thankfully, the younger woman spoke up again.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your date – it’s just that our tables are so close together…”
“Yeah,” I said, breaking my silence, “they sure are…”
“If you want to move to a different table,” said the woman, “we won’t be mad. Frankly, I’m surprised they seated anyone at that table – it’s so small!”
“Emily, do you want to move?” I asked.
“Oh,” she said, “it’s up to you.”
Not wanting to be "that guy," I decided to stay put.
"I'm fine if you're fine," I fibbed.
"Okay then," said Emily.
The waiter came, and Emily ordered some sort of fancy chicken dish.
"Sorry to bother you again..." the lady next to us said, tapping Emily on the shoulder. "I ordered that and it's VERY good," she said.
"Oh, um, thanks," said Emily.
"I'll have the barbecue burger," I told the waiter.
"Fair enough," I said, directing my attention toward Emily once again. "Did you like the movie?"
"Yeah, it was good. Did you?"
"Yep."
And that's it. I was out of things to say. This is the trouble with talking so much on the phone before a date -- you have the potential to reach a conversational dead end. And when that happens, sometimes I tend to make an ass out of myself. Like when I asked the art snob what kind of art she liked best.
So I just sat there. Silent. This way I absolutely wouldn't say anything stupid. Plus, I knew the lady at the next table was listening in.
"Sweetie, are you okay?" Emily asked after a minute or two.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "I just think we covered all the bases with our conversations over the last couple of nights... I don't know what else to talk about."
The awkward silence was broken by the arrival of our food. I picked at my fries. We forced some conversation about our dogs, jobs, lives, etc.
"Have fun, you two!" said the lady from the next table as she and her party packed up to leave. Emily and I responded with fake smiles.
"Holy cow," I said. "She sure was nosy."
"If she bothered you, why didn't you want to move?" Emily asked.
"I didn't want to be THAT guy," I said.
"Sam," she said, "when I said it was up to you, I wasn't testing you. It really was up to you."
"Oh," I said. "Sorry."
After we finished dinner, Emily needed to stop by a Hallmark store to buy a baptism card for her niece, who was being ritually dunked in holy water the following weekend.
"You don't have to come along," she said.
"I like card stores," I said. "Plus, I probably need a card for something."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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