I am nervous. This is my second date in about five years. My palms are sweaty, I look her in the eyes and know I made the right choice asking her out tonight. The place: Fells Point, MD. A staple of bar hopping and romantic dinners since the turn of the century. It's almost sunset and we're holding hands. Tapas is the idea, but first, drinks. Calm the nerves! Drink in the moment, let myself relax. Has this happened to you?
I catch her looking at me, I blush. Haven't done that in a very long time. We talk about the years gone by, and our collective,yet funny disappointing dates. This date is going right. We have so much to talk about, we have music in our ears, a crazy drummer, who at that moment must have thought he was Joe Cocker! Bang! Bang! A crash of symbols, and we lock eyes again. This time it's her who turns to blush.
The oysters and calamari arrive. Perfect. Lemon. Hot sauce.
We share a giggle and eat slowly. Drinks come and go, but the connection is undeniable. I smile."I haven't been on a date in a very long time!" I say. She touches the rim of her wine glass and grins at me.
A brisk evening breeze catches her auburn hair and we kiss.
George