A Date to Remember

The weight of marriage had taken its toll on me. It was time to punch out after five years, that was four years ago, and the days were too quiet, too bleak. My schedule was chaotic on the best of days; the only sanity was my simple daily routine, yoga, commuting, and the questionable lean cuisine. Keith had always been talking up a good friend of his.

He said, “You would be a perfect match!” He was always trying to “fix me up” with one of his friends. Enough time had elapsed, and being the third wheel was getting old, it was time to get back into the dating game.

Keith approached and gave me his friend’s number; I said, sighing deeply, “this better be your last attempt.” I snatched the number out of his hand and tossed it on a precarious mountain of congealed Frappuccinos and takeout containers covering my desk. It wasn’t until I was looking for the Jetbird folio. I noticed the phone number floating in some week-old dim sung sauce. The number and name Laure stared up at me from the soggy note, goading me to make the first move pondering what to say I had already had hit send:

“Hey! Lauren, this is Keith’s friend from YYG Publishing. He thought you and I would hit it off?”

An audible noise emanated from my desk, pulling my attention back to the note; an obnoxious heavy hand knocked at my door and, Keith bellowing, “The pineapple conference room in 20!” My meeting notes filled my notebook with illegible scribble and doodles of flowers and hearts. A clear green light illuminated my cell when I returned to my office. With a blank stare and sweaty palms, I reached for my phone.

“Hey yourself, Yes! Keith has been talking nonstop about you. So you caved, eh? Very brave of you to text first; I hope you are as accomplished as Keith made you out to be (winky eye). A little about myself I enjoy yoga and a good glass of Merlot HBU?...”

With a warm tingling in my stomach, I responded.

“(blush face) Keith is such a character! (eye roll) he can be quite the joker. I happen to like Merlot myself. We should grab a glass some time?”

A subtle warm, flush feeling came over me as I continued my day. Having various deadlines looming and some layout editing to get done before the spring issue of Uncorked Santa Barbara was published. I looked out my office window to see the sun setting over “Stern Wharf,” only to find myself still behind schedule, wide eye and energized, another text came through.

“Well, good thing you think Keith is a joker too, he is my older brother and would haven’t given my number to just anyone, so you must be someone extraordinary (winky eye). Let’s meet this Friday at Villa Wine Bar and Kitchen @7?”

Dryness began in my mouth and traveled to my throat. My mind began to race what I would wear in that instant, my heart began to quicken. Was I ready for this? Before I knew it, I had typed a response and hit send:

“Sure! Sounds like a date! The Villa Wine Bar and Kitchen is only a short walk from my condo (winky eye)”.

We exchanged several texts during the week. I learned that Lauren liked to hike, surf and was an accomplished flutist. I knew I needed to make an excellent first impression. So, in other words, clothes shopping for an LBD (little black dress), and I knew just the right place. “Renaissance Fine Consignment” had the ideal chic dress, and it even fit. Everything was falling into place. I had the perfect shoes picked out and even appropriate first-date panties in mind.

Friday came, and literally, everything began to unravel. The morning started out like any other, yoga, hot black espresso, except for a torrent of water rushing through my bathroom ceiling. Ann Mitchell’s 4yr old thought it would be a good idea to dump three boxes of pasta and food coloring down their toilet. My dress in its dry-cleaning bag was the only saving grace, but the shoes not so much; they sank like the Titanic. No big deal, I had a plan B for the shoes. A backup pair of black flats that would work perfectly. So I collected my things for my first date and headed off to the office. As I was leaving, I checked in with the building manager Mrs. O’Malley for an estimated repairs time. She said they were still assessing the damage, which could be weeks. With a half-smile on my face and knowing what tonight could bring, I trudged off to work. I was rummaging through my purse for my car FOB, and a sinking feeling came over me... “Mother Trucker!” I left it in a small clutch in my bathroom, which was now a ringside seat to SeaWorld! I dropped what I was carrying on the hood of my Civic and ran back to my apartment.

When I returned to my car, another disaster unfolded before my eyes. The drying cleaning bag with the dress was blowing in the stiff morning breeze as I cast a wider gaze. I spotted the dress on top of the security fence. So I dumped what was on the hood of the Civic in the already jam-packed trunk. While performing an impromptu American Ninja course, I collected the dress and, at this point, tossed it into the back seat without another thought. Unbeknownst to me, I forgot about the mass of leftover Thai food in my back seat. I was over an hour late for work at this point, and we had a massive presentation to Jetbird Winery for a cover shoot.

I called Keith on the way to the office, and he told me he had it covered. The presentation went off without a hitch. The rest of the day was quiet and without incident. I explained to Keith what happened this morning, and he could not contain his laughter. He was still laughing as he snuck me into the executive bathrooms. So I could get ready for my date. To my surprise, the dress was still intact but smelled a little fishy. The warm steam filled the shower with a freshness I had been longing for. The refreshing scent of watermelon and peaches filled the air. The silky cream covered my legs as I slid the cold, sharp piece of steel up each of my legs. I donned a warm and cozy robe and prepped myself for an evening of excitement.

I arrived at the Villa Wine Bar and Kitchen nearly an hour before the date. I grabbed a seat near the bar and made origami birds out of the cocktail napkins. I ordered a blue-ginger margarita with lime-infused tequila. This first sip was pure heaven as my moist lips touched the salty rim of the glass, and the scent of lime filled my senses. The cool liquid rushed over my tongue. After the twelfth origami crane, Lauren had not arrived. I reached for my phone only to find that the battery had completely drained. I put my head down and placed my face in the palm of my hands. I could feel my eyes begin to tear up.

The Bartender asked, “Hey, what’s wrong, pretty little lady?”

I could barely get the words out, “My phone is dead and needs a charge, and I am supposed to be on the first date.”

The Bartender handed me a universal charger cord, and I was back in business.

I said, “Thank you very much!! You have made my day!”

After a few long minutes, I had 14 missed texts from Lauren. She was with a client and was running late. I quickly responded, stating my phone had died and was still at the bar. As soon as I hit send, I heard a unique and obnoxious chime and looked up. Beads of sweat began to roll down the back of my neck. I notice the subtle hints of oak and cherry fill my nostrils. My stare traveled across the room and landed squarely on Lauren. My hands were clammy as I fidgeted in my seat. I raised my hand like; I was in 6th math class, unsure of the correct answer. Lauren glided across the floor like a ballerina. As she drew closer, my heart raced, and my throat was drying up.

I shifted my gaze to a freshly poured glass of Merlot. At that moment, paralyzed; lying on the floor was a one-hundred twenty dollar bottle of Merlot. All you could hear was the bustling kitchen staff. Lauren’s expression was priceless. She stood mouth agape, then slowly a smirked appeared followed with a full-on body chuckle. In my excitement and hyper-focused state of mind, I had not realized when I went to wave over Lauren. I had knocked the bottle of Merlot off the table next to me. This was not the excitement I had planned for. I felt my face begging to warm, and a sinking sensation came over me. Lauren approached and gave me a tender, reassuring embrace, one that I had not had in a long while. She smelled like a warm summer breeze. I went on to tell her how this was turning out to be the worst day ever. Then she gradually reached out and grabbed my hand and said with a smirk, “well, the day is not over yet!”

With a warm smile that could light the night sky. She said, “let’s blow this joint and go back to your place.” Her voice was alluring, calming, and seductive. I said, “My place is a declared natural disaster zone.” She motioned to the sommelier, asking what their recommended Merlot was, and in a few moments, she returned with a bottle of Jetbird Merlot (2017),

The sommelier asked, “if she wanted her to open it?” Lauren said, “We’ll take the bottle to go!” She looks at me with a bright smile “you’ve had a long day, my treat!” She gave the waitress an Amex Black; she instructed her to put the broken bottle and the entire bottle and run the card. She had a commanding presence, captivated, my whole body shuttered. After the waitress returned from running the card, she took me by my hand and led me from the bar. She said, “if I remember, you live only a short walk away.” Then she took me by surprise and leaned in for a kiss. This was not one of those; hey, thanks for dinner kisses, it startled me. Her lips were soft and sweet and welcoming. The rest of the night was a blur after we finished the Bottle of Merlot.