Thursday, March 28, 2013

Ten Years

Ten years ago tonight was my first date with my (now) wife.

Although it would be presumptuous to say we knew right away it would be the last first date either of us would have, I certainly can say (for myself) that if I didn't think there was a pretty reasonable chance things would work out thusly the date may not have happened at all. Given that not only did we work together at the time (that was how we met and got to know each other—somewhat taboo but not uncommon) but also at the time her older sister was my immediate supervisor. So if things didn't work out, not only could the situation be uncomfortable with a co-worker but my boss could have rained hell down on me.

I'm not much of a risk-taker, but I could tell from what I was feeling that asking her out was worth it; something told me I'd regret it if I didn't.

Granted, it wasn't necessarily a conventional "first date" in the sense that we'd had the opportunity to talk by sitting in proximity to each other at the office for a while (but then only correspond by email when she was transferred to another office across town) and pick up on the vibe. We went in to the date knowing we already liked each other.

It differed from the conventional also in that I slyly phrased the asking out in the context of making it seem a bit like hanging out. (Again, with the larger circumstances if she didn't feel the way about me I didn't want to make it awkward the following Monday back at work.) She chides me to this day about how she wasn't certain it was a date; she admits she hoped it was but she wasn't certain I felt that way about her (and she wouldn't want that awkwardness at work either).

The date itself was somewhat conventional. We went to a blues club I knew, had some dinner and a few drinks on the patio. It was going very well. Then I asked her if she wanted to dance to the band, and we went to the floor and after a few songs (I don't recall how many) we shared a look—you know the kind—and we kissed. (The best first kiss of my life.)

Being the dork I am, I followed that by clarifying: "By the way, this is a date." We adjourned to the lounge area upstairs and I plagiarized Rhett Miller by announcing to her "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have designs on you."

And a decade later I still do.

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