It Wasn’t a Date

 

This time… it wasn’t a date.

You remember her. The younger woman I met at a party. The do-I, don’t-I moment about shaving the grays in my beard. The I-wasn’t-even-born-yet during Hurricane Andrew girl.

Yes, her.

That was almost two months ago. An eternity ago. Since then, she and I have become friends. You know, we talk on the phone, text, share stuff. We had tried to meet a few times, but we weren’t able to connect in person–until tonight.

She was in the area and called to see if I was working at the juice bar. I wasn’t, but I invited her to meet me at the house, after which we could find a place to hang out.

It wasn’t a date.

I love getting her perspective on relationships. We have such great conversations, and her energy is fantastic. This time, she was telling me about a guy she was dating. Some things weren’t going so well. We talked for a good while at the kitchen table–her on a chair at one end of the table, me perpendicular to her on a long bench–before deciding to go for a walk.

It wasn’t a date.

We walked to Victoria Park and sat on a bench right along the canal. The bench had a mechitza, so we were never, like, right up on each other. Just a great conversation. Facing each other. Picturesque, the sun setting in the background. But as you know by now…

It wasn’t a date.

I had a moment–several, really–where part of me was in the conversation, with her, and another part of me was perched up on a branch on the tree behind us, observing… me.

I was kinda amazed, actually–at myself. As we talked about how guys were always doing dumb things to get her attention, I could only smirk. Those guys were me–or, I was those guys. The point is, was. Here I had this amazing woman across from me, and I was feeling pretty Zen. 

Honestly, it’s hard not to be awkward around women we’re attracted to. Ok, maybe that’s just me. The past me would have been trying really hard: trying to sound extra-clever; trying to impress; trying, trying, trying.

But the elder statesman Alex was able to relax and just be me. Yes, I alluded to the idea of an us down the road, but I didn’t put a lot of zing into it. Just what was true for me in the moment, so I shared it.

Maybe I’ve grown up in the last couple months. Matured. Or, maybe that’s what naturally happens when we take the time to actually get to know someone–yes, even someone we’re attracted to–and stop playing the hustle.

 

How did our time together end?

I will indulge your greedy thoughts.

As we walked back to the house, feeling the moment, I took her hand in mine. Reaching the driveway, we approached her car door. As she opened it, I leaned in–just to say goodnight. But somehow our lips met, and we made out for a few precious moments.

 

I’m kidding. Or have you forgotten.

It wasn’t a date.

 

 

share me, follow me, laugh at/with me (reader’s choice)

www.alexobed.com