Used to be, when I was afraid of something, even if I knew intellectually that my fear was irrational, I would let the fear consume me, make me frantic and anxious and panicked. Used to be, once I got it in my head that I wasn’t sure about a particular guy, I’d find some reason to run away, rather than be the one left behind and wondering.
But apparently, I have reached the point where simply recognizing my fear is enough to let me overcome it. So when I acknowledged that I was afraid things with Event Guy would end up just like things ended up with my ex, I realized that was a pretty silly thing to be afraid of — for one thing, Event Guy is emphatically not my ex (and thank heavens for that)…and for another, I’m not the same person I was then. So ever since I got over the fear, I have been pretty darn excited about Event Guy.
So. Date #6 was Saturday night. He made me dinner — and for you foodies out there, it was amazing: grilled rack of lamb with a balsamic-fig reduction, red and green tomato salad (and the tomatoes were from his garden!), mashed potatoes with a drizzle of truffle oil. Then we watched a very cheesy movie called Antitrust, then just sat cuddled up on the couch and talked for hours. It was a really, really good date.
And date #7 was last night. He came here around 6.30, which we decided was too early for dinner, so we sat on the couch and cracked each other up with bizarre tales of how the event planners are going to take over the world. An hour slipped away, making it a reasonable time for dinner in this ever-so-fashionably-late city, so we went to a cute new Italian place not far from my apartment. They don’t have a liquor license yet, so we brought a bottle of Opolo’s Mountain Zin, which I’d gotten in wine country during that rather memorable weekend in February. Dinner was excellent, and the chocolate souffle we shared for dessert was exquisite. All through dinner, we were holding hands across the table. At one point, he beckoned me to lean toward him, and he kissed me, just like in a movie. When the waitress (who’s also the owner and the wife of the chef) brought our check, she said, “There’s no rush. Stay here and be lovey-dovey as long as you want.”
We came back here after dinner, and I mentioned that I wouldn’t see him for a week and a half since I’m going back East for vacation, and I asked if he might be interested in picking me up from the airport next Sunday night. He said he’d be happy to, then said, jokingly, “Well, as long as you’re still single when you get back.” I said, “Hmm, let me think about the guys I’m going to see on this trip. There’s my brother, some random friends in New York, then my friend J. in Potomac who’s been happily married to one of my best friends for the last year and a half. So, yeah, I think I’ll still be single when I get back.” He laughed at that, then I asked, “So…am I still single?” He gave me a very cute smile and said, “No.”
“Event Guy” takes too long to type. I think he’ll be “EG” henceforth. Or “A.”
He makes me happy. He makes me feel good about myself. And, perhaps best of all, he knows that forks and bread plates go on the left, and knives and glasses go on the right.