The First Date

     Well, it finally came to pass. The first date.  After an unfortunate false start that had me wondering if I'd made a mistake - schedule conflict, his - disappointment, mine - we re-grouped and and finally set the date and the meeting point.
     The activity was my idea.  A dear friend of mine, a genius flutist, was giving a concert about 90 minutes from here, and I really, really wanted to go. So my "blind date" and I made plans to meet for an early supper, and, as I said, if we decided we couldn't stand each other, he could then go his way, and I'd go to the concert by myself. Otherwise, we'd go to the concert together.
     With a week to plan for this auspicious event, my friends and family began to circle the wagons around me. Barbara warned me to guard my emotions, my children cheered me on, Mary Grace wanted to arrange for a phone call an hour into the date in case I needed an escape route, and my wacky friend, Elaine, started giving me warnings: Don't get into a car with him, take a blanket, water and food in the car (in case of a breakdown), be sure to take my cell phone - and she'd stand by and notify the state police if I somehow disappeared. And what was I going to wear, she demanded to know. (She was not amused when I said I thought I'd wear my see-through  Bob Mackie evening dress festooned with rhinestones and crystals.)
     I tried to stay calm, but cripes! I hadn't been out on a "date" since 1963! My date and I exchanged text messages and e-mails during the week, and finally nailed down a time and place to meet, describing what our cars look like. Since I really had no idea of where I was going,  I went out and bought a new GPS, as my old one had become hopelessly outdated. I was going to have to navigate the outskirts of Washington, DC, which is a daunting task at best, even when you know the area.
     THE day arrived, and things went so smoothly - too smoothly - so that I was sure I was going to have a flat tire, or a traffic jam-up on the Bay Bridge to screw things up. I needn't have worried. It was a bright, sunny day, I decided to wear black with a look-at-me-red sweater - a little touch of eye shadow - a little spritz of perfume. I fed the dogs and got them settled, and off I went, right on schedule. Maintaining a death grip on the steering wheel, I concentrated on what the GPS, aka "Myrtle," was telling me to do. My date sent me a text message telling me he, too, was on his way, and he "couldn't wait" to meet me. (As if I didn't already have enough butterflies!)
     And suddenly I was there! And he was there, leaning against his car, waving, with a big smile on his face. All of Elaine's admonitions about not getting into his car went out the window immediately, (did I mention that he and I had previously spent more than THREE HOURS talking on the phone with each other a couple of weeks ago?) He knew where to go, about 10 blocks away, to a neat little restaurant in Chevy Chase - so I hopped in with him and off we went.
     It was another three-hour event. The conversation came easily, comfortably - it was as if we'd known each other for years, rather than hours. The waitress kept checking on us - and he said, "We're going to be here for awhile."
     "Yes," I added, "We haven't seen each other for a lifetime." We both laughed.
      We went on to the concert together, and it couldn't have been more perfect. David-the-flutist was magnificent - I've known him since he was in elementary school with my daughter, and I've kept track of him as his musical career has developed. My date and I loved the music, happily closing our eyes and listening as David's magic flute transported us somewhere out in Never-Never-Land.  (I highly recommend a flute-and-piano concert for a first date, if you're both into classical music.) The reception afterward afforded time for a wonderful reunion with David, and introductions all around - and a cupcake and some apple juice and/or wine.
      And all too soon, it was time to say good-night and part company. At my car, I just easily stepped into his outstretched arms for a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek - it felt natural and comfortable - and we both went our separate ways. We talked on the phone while we were both en route to our homes, and the conversation was full of plans for our next get-together.
     So my instincts were right - this was a "good guy" - interesting, fun, gentlemanly, enthusiastic about life - and please, God, let there be date #2.  It's so nice to have something to look forward to.