Reaching First Base

Sorry for not filling you guys in on my date with CH sooner! Prom didn't end until 12 on Friday night, and then we (chaperones) had to wait until all the kids left the building, did the bathroom/closet checks, so on and so on. By the time CH dropped me off at my apartment, it was 1:30 and, well, we talked (really, talking is ALL we did) outside my door for about another half-hour, so really, when all was said and done, I didn't crawl into bed until 3 a.m. and Saturday was a sleep-in/grade papers/enjoy the spring weather sort of day, which leads me to now.


So, okay. I decided to go with my black dress and red heels after all. It was too late in the game plan to make any switches, and besides, that dress really accentuates my best features - my waist and collar bones. CH was punctual, and luckily, by some miracle, I was actually ready on time, too. (Perhaps some unconscious sense of gym teachers running drills like German Clock Work or something...). At any rate, when I answer the door, my knees almost buckle with the shock at seeing CH in something besides a polo shirt, whistle, and khaki shorts. If I were a random woman meeting him for the first time ever, I would be beyond pleased. In a simple gray suit, blue button-down dress shirt, and yellow/gold tie, he was all sorts of yummy. And you know something? For the first time I noticed the color of his eyes: hazel-green. And he has a shy smirk, which I discovered right after he complimented me on my outfit. Nothing eloquent here. "Nice dress" is far from Shakespeare, but it worked.

I was still slightly nervous while he walked me to the car (some black sports car that I think Subaru makes),even though pleasantly surprised with how well he could clean-up. A) I couldn't get into full "date" mode because I wasn't sure if this was just a colleague thing, doing something practical and B) Even though he was good eye-candy, we couldn't just stare at each other like cows chomping on our dinners at Ruby Tuesdays. And though "nice dress" made me blush, it wasn't promising by way of scintillating conversation.

Never fear, folks! My supremely honed-in skill to ruin a moment/embarrass myself quickly broke the tension once I sat in the car...and ON MY CORSAGE!

Yeah, can you believe it? He bought me a corsage. Cute!

Well, when I say I sat on my corsage, what I am really doing is lying for the more embarrassing thing that happened instead. Noticing that my derrière was about to obliterate the lovely red rose wrist display, he reaches to pull the box from under me. So the box gets pushed out just in time with his left hand, but right hand gets pinned. And with the seats lower than I calculated (WHY do you design them so low, Subaru?!), I plopped down into it with an UNlady-like thud, rather than the grace I was so desperately hoping for.

He yells, "Ow!"at the same time I shriek, "Ack!" He gently lifts me off his hand, and curls his right hand fingers in and out, in and out a few times while I apologize profusely.

In the movies, we would look at each other, laugh, then both know that this completely embarrassing start would let each of us secretly know that "he" or "she" is the one, while he says something charming to diffuse the situation, and I do some sweet gesture to show off my naive yet alluring femininity. But this is real life.

What actually happened was a few seconds stretched into an awkward eternity of looking anywhere but at each other. CH shoved the corsage box onto my lap, saying how his sister told him to do it, and my butt is a lot firmer than it looks. Ummm, thanks?

So yes, after that start, silence at Ruby Tuesdays wasn't sounding so bad. We managed through dinner okay. When in doubt, talk about administration and trouble-maker students as common bonding. It never fails. Plus, being a coach, he needed a game plan for the night's chaperoning duties. A good deal of time was spent on that, not to mention paper napkins with x's swerving around o's with what was presumably the dance field, er, I mean floor.

The Prom was actually fun.And by the time it was over, and he dropped me off at home, we were laughing and talking about things outside of school. Not much, mind you. But the sort of stuff we should have talked about at Ruby Tuesdays. Where'd you grow-up, go to college, etc.

Will there be a date number 2? I wouldn't count on it. He's right handed, and I don't think he wants to risk injury to his throwing arm again. But will there be smiles? Yeah, I think so. And with that delicious little smirk, with a teeny little dimple on the right cheek, I could have a lot worse being thrown at me while on cafe duty. :)