Half an hour before The Wedding Date and I are due at my friend’s dinner party on Saturday night, my phone rings. It’s him, and he’s stuck in traffic.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him, “we’ll get there when we get there.”
What he doesn’t know is that I myself am about half an hour behind schedule because I’ve spent all day cleaning and grocery shopping and trying to get caught up on my blog, no thanks to the two year old seated beside me in the coffee shop who saw fit to spend the entire morning espousing the virtues of chocolate milk…
At any rate, I’m glad he’s stuck in traffic because this means I’ll have time to, you know, actually get dressed before he arrives. He promises to call me again when he’s five minutes away but not long thereafter, my phone rings again.
“I’m here!” he announces.
“Great!” I tell him, “I’ll be right down!”
Except it’s not great and I won’t be right down. As luck would have it, I’ve just stepped out of the shower so I’m standing there completely naked trying to figure out what’s more important (makeup or clothing?) and my bathrobe, of course, is in the laundry. Eventually, I grab my H&M beach cover up from my closet, fling it over my head and tumble downstairs, sans makeup.
It’s a bold move for a fifth date but The Wedding Date doesn’t seem to notice (or if he does, he doesn’t care because he kisses me hello before he’s even made it through the front door).
Fifteen minutes later, we’re finally on our way (and no, before you ask, we weren’t making out. We were ironing, honest-to-God).
We take The Wedding Date’s car across town, by which I mean he drives and I spend the whole time offering handy navigational tips such as “Turn here. No, not yet. Up there. No, here! Turn HERE!” Upon our arrival, he carries basically everything, opens every door we encounter and spends the remainder of the evening making small talk with our hosts and their guests. At last, somewhere between dessert, Yankee Swap and a rather pitiful round of Charades, he excuses himself to use the bathroom. I waste no time in sidling up to our hostess for the evening and whisper, “Okay, we’ve got about 30 seconds. What do you think of him???”
I’d assured The Wedding Date that this wasn’t that kind of a party (the kind where you invent an excuse to get together with your friends so you can offer up your newest suitor for their approval) but what can I say? After my ill-fated dalliance with Date #7, I want to make sure that I haven’t lost my mind.
“He seems really sweet” she replies.
“Yeah,” I smile. “He is.”
The next morning I decide to him to Grindcore, my favorite vegan coffee shop, for breakfast. I’m not sure that he’s terribly keen on vegan food so I wait until he’s taken a bite of his bagel to ask how he likes the cream cheese.
“It’s fantastic,” he tells me.
“Good. I’m glad you like it. It’s tofu.”
On our way back, we take a shortcut through the park. With the holidays just around the corner, the sound system is set to play Christmas music 24/7.
“Do you swing?” The Wedding Date asks me.
“Of course!” I tell him.
“Single step or triple step?”
“Both. I took ballroom lessons in high school.”
(That’s right: ballroom lessons. What kind of swinging did you think I was talking about?)
“Really?” he asks.
Neither of us says anything further on the subject, and I can’t help but notice that “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” is playing from a set of tiny speakers in the middle of the park. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” for those of you less familiar with your social dance forms, is perfect for swing dancing, but come on, what kind of man is going to stop in the middle of a park to swing dance? That kind of stuff only happens in the movies… or, as it turns out, on cold Sunday mornings in South Philly.
Mind you, I haven’t even gotten to the truly cinematic part of the weekend—the part where an unexpected knock on the door puts an end to our impromptu dance lesson—but I know one thing for sure: there are romantic comedies and then there are dramas. And frankly, I’ve had enough of the latter.
- A Blissfully Groggy Monday Morning (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)
- How to Get a Girl to Stay the Night (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)
- A Wedding Date (imscaredofexams.wordpress.com)