She glanced at her tiny wristwatch, sighed and took a delicate sip of diet Coke.
The date was already not going well. First date etiquette clearly dictates that the man should be there at least 10 minutes early; but it was already 8:05 and he wasn't there yet. In his defense, he lived on the other side of town and had to take a very long commute to get there, and he had offered to pick her up, but still... there were formalities to be observed. The delicate art of seduction needs finesse, and first impressions count for a lot; it only takes a little tardiness to kill a woman's interest, and a man of quality would know that... besides; a man's word is his bond, as the saying goes, and his inability to keep a promise as simple as showing up on time didn't speak very well for him.
Or did it?
Could it be some sort of power play? Was he implying that his time was more valuable than hers... or was she overthinking it? She had no idea. In fact, she didn't know anything about him; all she knew was that he was attractive, charming, and a smooth enough talker to talk a nun into a threesome. Within 15 minutes of them meeting he'd already secured her phone number, and she couldn't for the life of her remember how he'd done it.
As she stared into the bubbling, black depths of her half-full glass (or half-empty, depending on your disposition), mentally trying to banish all thoughts of fornicating nuns, she had to admire his directness. A lesser man would have waited for the customary 3 days before calling her to ask her out, but he didn't even wait for one hour. One minute they were flirting; the next he was saving her number on his phone, and before she even knew what was happening, he'd already set up their first date at the classiest restaurant in town... the one you generally either needed to have serious connections with the mafia, the Illuminati or the government to get reservations in. She wasn't sure she wanted to know which.
The sound of confident, purposeful footsteps accompanied by jingling car keys pulled her out of her reverie. She discretely pulled her phone out of her purse and pretended to have been texting until the footsteps were close enough that she couldn't ignore them, and she looked up.
He was immaculately dressed; well-ironed white shirt, grey blazer, plain jeans and gleamingly well-polished black dress shoes with a watch and belt to match. Compared to what everyone else was wearing he was arguably under-dressed... however, not only did he pull it off well, but he also seemed to steal the spotlight. His confident stride spoke of a man who knew what he wanted and went for it; and the way he dressed -elegant yet simple, like he wasn't trying very hard- coupled with his playful half-smile and the way he was holding her gaze while politely ignoring the stares he was getting from most of the women at the other tables (and the thinly-guarded hostility with which their men regarded him) gave him the air of a man who was no stranger to women's attention. She did her best to ignore the sullen, jealous glances she was getting from some of the aforementioned women, and reached out her hand to shake his as he approached the table. He had a dry, firm handshake, and it left her right hand smelling faintly of the particularly masculine brand of bottled testosterone which he was wearing for perfume.
"Look at me, keeping a beautiful woman waiting... my mother would be ashamed of the gentleman she didn't raise" He smiled apologetically. "There is no excuse for that; I'm truly sorry".
A compliment, followed by the implication of an affectionate relationship with his mother and a sincere apology. She was already naming their three children.
She took a quick glance at her watch to imply that she hadn't really noticed as she answered brightly:
"Is it ever?" He chortled. "But you know, my bigger problem recently has been Google maps. It's been all about dead ends and longest routes lately"
"Oh, you don't drive here much?"
"I do, but I have the sense of direction God gave a carrot." He said laughingly. "But I often feel like if you want it enough, you'll eventually get there... and I did want it enough." He looked her in the eyes as he said that, hesitated for exactly two heartbeats and then added: "You look stunning, by the way."
Oh, masterfully done, she thought to herself. She was shrewd enough to recognize what he was doing, but he did it so well that she couldn't help blushing a little in response and shyly murmuring a thank you as she busied herself with the menu the waiter had just placed in front of her.
The date was already not going well. First date etiquette clearly dictates that the man should be there at least 10 minutes early; but it was already 8:05 and he wasn't there yet. In his defense, he lived on the other side of town and had to take a very long commute to get there, and he had offered to pick her up, but still... there were formalities to be observed. The delicate art of seduction needs finesse, and first impressions count for a lot; it only takes a little tardiness to kill a woman's interest, and a man of quality would know that... besides; a man's word is his bond, as the saying goes, and his inability to keep a promise as simple as showing up on time didn't speak very well for him.
Or did it?
Could it be some sort of power play? Was he implying that his time was more valuable than hers... or was she overthinking it? She had no idea. In fact, she didn't know anything about him; all she knew was that he was attractive, charming, and a smooth enough talker to talk a nun into a threesome. Within 15 minutes of them meeting he'd already secured her phone number, and she couldn't for the life of her remember how he'd done it.
As she stared into the bubbling, black depths of her half-full glass (or half-empty, depending on your disposition), mentally trying to banish all thoughts of fornicating nuns, she had to admire his directness. A lesser man would have waited for the customary 3 days before calling her to ask her out, but he didn't even wait for one hour. One minute they were flirting; the next he was saving her number on his phone, and before she even knew what was happening, he'd already set up their first date at the classiest restaurant in town... the one you generally either needed to have serious connections with the mafia, the Illuminati or the government to get reservations in. She wasn't sure she wanted to know which.
The sound of confident, purposeful footsteps accompanied by jingling car keys pulled her out of her reverie. She discretely pulled her phone out of her purse and pretended to have been texting until the footsteps were close enough that she couldn't ignore them, and she looked up.
He was immaculately dressed; well-ironed white shirt, grey blazer, plain jeans and gleamingly well-polished black dress shoes with a watch and belt to match. Compared to what everyone else was wearing he was arguably under-dressed... however, not only did he pull it off well, but he also seemed to steal the spotlight. His confident stride spoke of a man who knew what he wanted and went for it; and the way he dressed -elegant yet simple, like he wasn't trying very hard- coupled with his playful half-smile and the way he was holding her gaze while politely ignoring the stares he was getting from most of the women at the other tables (and the thinly-guarded hostility with which their men regarded him) gave him the air of a man who was no stranger to women's attention. She did her best to ignore the sullen, jealous glances she was getting from some of the aforementioned women, and reached out her hand to shake his as he approached the table. He had a dry, firm handshake, and it left her right hand smelling faintly of the particularly masculine brand of bottled testosterone which he was wearing for perfume.
"Look at me, keeping a beautiful woman waiting... my mother would be ashamed of the gentleman she didn't raise" He smiled apologetically. "There is no excuse for that; I'm truly sorry".
A compliment, followed by the implication of an affectionate relationship with his mother and a sincere apology. She was already naming their three children.
She took a quick glance at her watch to imply that she hadn't really noticed as she answered brightly:
"Oh, don't worry about it... I had to reply to some e-mails anyway!"An obvious lie, but he was graceful enough not to push it. "Was the traffic OK?" She asked, then inwardly cursed herself for the cliche, generic nature of her question.
"Is it ever?" He chortled. "But you know, my bigger problem recently has been Google maps. It's been all about dead ends and longest routes lately"
"Oh, you don't drive here much?"
"I do, but I have the sense of direction God gave a carrot." He said laughingly. "But I often feel like if you want it enough, you'll eventually get there... and I did want it enough." He looked her in the eyes as he said that, hesitated for exactly two heartbeats and then added: "You look stunning, by the way."
Oh, masterfully done, she thought to herself. She was shrewd enough to recognize what he was doing, but he did it so well that she couldn't help blushing a little in response and shyly murmuring a thank you as she busied herself with the menu the waiter had just placed in front of her.
Nervously leafing through the pages, she pretended to read but was really just peering at him from over the top of her menu. He expertly opened the menu, flipped to a specific page, took a quick glance and then closed it just in time to catch her staring at him. He met her gaze, and flashed her a disarmingly dazzling smile... the sort of smile you kept for family and lovers and soul mates and very close friends. The sort of smile that said "you matter to me and I want you to know it". The sort of smile that can get you hooked, like a drug.
In her case, however, she felt eerily uncomfortable; it seemed oddly obscene for him to be giving away these smiles to complete strangers, even if she happened to be the stranger in question. He was radiating so much warmth and sincerity that it made her feel like she was intruding on someone else's intimate affair; it somehow made her feel simultaneously vulnerable, insecure, dirty, and honored to be on the receiving end of it... not to mention some unexpected stirring in the pit of her stomach and nether regions. She looked quickly back at her menu, her heart racing.
She deduced three things; firstly, he appeared to be a creature of habit, as it only took him a second to decide what to order; he frequented that restaurant fairly regularly, since he seemed familiar with the menu... and last but not least, he wasn't toying with her; you couldn't fake a smile like that... no one was that good an actor. Right?
In her case, however, she felt eerily uncomfortable; it seemed oddly obscene for him to be giving away these smiles to complete strangers, even if she happened to be the stranger in question. He was radiating so much warmth and sincerity that it made her feel like she was intruding on someone else's intimate affair; it somehow made her feel simultaneously vulnerable, insecure, dirty, and honored to be on the receiving end of it... not to mention some unexpected stirring in the pit of her stomach and nether regions. She looked quickly back at her menu, her heart racing.
She deduced three things; firstly, he appeared to be a creature of habit, as it only took him a second to decide what to order; he frequented that restaurant fairly regularly, since he seemed familiar with the menu... and last but not least, he wasn't toying with her; you couldn't fake a smile like that... no one was that good an actor. Right?
"So, do you come here often?" She asked, barely able to contain her curiosity any longer.
"I've been here a few times, yes" was his vague response. He was obviously going to make her work for it. Very well then, she thought... she could play mind games too; and she had yet to meet a man who did not enjoy a bit of ego-stroking.
"I have to say, I'm impressed... Not everyone can get reservations here at such short notice." She watched him closely for the telltale, self-important glint of pride she'd come to associate with men with a satisfied ego and the beginnings of an erection...
But he didn't take the bait.
"Oh it's nothing, I just come here a lot" He replied cheerfully, with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Who'd throw away such a perfect opportunity to boast of their social class and connections? His modesty intrigued her... and the fact that his charm came to him so naturally. Why wasn't he overthinking every word she said, like she was? And just how many girls had he taken to that restaurant before her?
She was struggling with another way to probe him further when he spoke again; almost like he could read her thoughts.
"Hey, uh... Excuse my bluntness, but let's not do mind games today. They wear me out and a lot of sincerity gets lost in the process... so, if something's on my mind, I'll say it, and please feel free to do the same... I promise I'll answer honestly. There's less miscommunication that way"
"Hey, uh... Excuse my bluntness, but let's not do mind games today. They wear me out and a lot of sincerity gets lost in the process... so, if something's on my mind, I'll say it, and please feel free to do the same... I promise I'll answer honestly. There's less miscommunication that way"
That definitely took her off-guard. The waiter took the 5 seconds of stunned silence to mean that they'd decided what to order, and he walked over to their table with a smile on his face and stood by expectantly.
"Could you give us a few more minutes, please?" Her date asked the waiter politely.
The waiter gave an actual, honest-to-God bow, and retreated... it was like being in the 1950s.
As he looked back at her questioningly, she pondered his request... although she was disappointed that the aura of mystery had been removed, she was also exhilarated at the prospect of having a real, heart-felt conversation with him... So she decided to give it a go.
"Alright, fine" she replied, at length. "What's your name? It was kind of weird that I had to save you as "Mysterious Bar Dude" on my phone"
He chuckled. "Mysterious Bar Dude? Was God's Gift To Women already taken?" He flashed her another smile, his perfect teeth glinting in the candlelight.
She replied with a giggle, but gave no further response save for cocking her head; he wasn't getting out of it so easily. Appearing to get the hint, he dropped his head and appeared to consider her request for a few seconds... then raised it with a sigh.
He chuckled. "Mysterious Bar Dude? Was God's Gift To Women already taken?" He flashed her another smile, his perfect teeth glinting in the candlelight.
She replied with a giggle, but gave no further response save for cocking her head; he wasn't getting out of it so easily. Appearing to get the hint, he dropped his head and appeared to consider her request for a few seconds... then raised it with a sigh.
"Sorry, that's the one thing I can't tell you... But we've talked about this, haven't we?" He pursed his lips playfully at her, like she was violating some sort of sacred rule.
"Yes, I remember the terms of our agreement" she replied, sarcastically emphasizing the last word with the hand gesture for parentheses as she recalled their conversation on the day he'd asked her out. "But since we're doing the whole honesty thing, don't you think our names are slightly relevant?!" She exclaimed exasperatedly.
"Yes, I remember the terms of our agreement" she replied, sarcastically emphasizing the last word with the hand gesture for parentheses as she recalled their conversation on the day he'd asked her out. "But since we're doing the whole honesty thing, don't you think our names are slightly relevant?!" She exclaimed exasperatedly.
"I disagree... look, I'm not doing this to be mysterious or to hide something from you... I'm doing this for one simple reason; we live in 2017. All either one of us would need is a first and last name, and we could find out all there is to know about each other through social media... And I don't believe that is the best way to get to know someone. The best way is through good, old-fashioned talking."
"And you're an old-fashioned man, aren't you?" She asked, locking eyes with him.
"As old-fashioned as they come" He replied, leaning back in his chair... There! That glint of fierce pride she'd been waiting for... albeit wildly out of place, and mixed with another emotion she couldn't quite place... was it self-importance, or something else?
They must have stared at each other for several minutes, because the waiter appeared suddenly as if out of nowhere.
"Are we perhaps ready?" He asked, almost impatiently.
"Yes", she thought as she peered deeply into her date's sad eyes and vowed to know all there is to know about the mysterious man... "Yes, I'm definitely ready."
Outwardly, however, she just said: "I'm sorry, could you please give us five more minutes?"
