First Date

He had asked me on a date through text. He was reasonably cute too but not really my type. Even still, he was funny and kind and I liked that about him. I was surprised he even wanted my number that night, a week ago, when we first met. I was the only one at the haunted house who had their eyes glued shut the entire time through it. Our group was a train. A line of people each clinging to the person in front of us as we chugged along the “haunted” barn corridors. Screaming clowns and serial murderers with chainsaws jumped out at us from the shadows. Of course, my clever thought process was: they can’t scare you when you can’t see them. But they definitely noticed me as they shrieked “open your eyes little girl!” In eerie high pitched voices over and over again (for the record: I did not open my eyes). He apparently noticed me too as his fists held tightly to the back of my shirt. We were all a mix of screams and giggles as we traveled through the creaky wooden rooms and I could feel his laughter on my neck up until we reached the exit. Luckily there were no casualties. Afterwards when our adrenaline settled and the ‘fight or flight’ response turned into ‘chill and stand still’ he asked me for my number.

Flash forward to me standing naked in front of a shower-steamed mirror debating between jeans and a t-shirt or a floral patterned fall dress. I decided since I wasn’t completely invested in the idea of dating him that I would dress to unimpress and stick with my cute but casual option. I threw on some black flats and slid out the door into the chilly fall evening. It was about 7:00 pm when his Green Toyota rounded the corner to pick me up just in time for our 7:30pm showing of Where The Wild Things Are. As soon as I stepped into the car that lovely, little, electric current of awkward settled stagnantly between us. He smiled, I smiled, and neither of us knew what to say. Immediately I wanted to open the door and throw myself out into highway traffic as we drove towards the mall. “You look nice.” He commented not looking at me at all. He had a nice button down on, long sleeves, and some jeans. For the most part we matched and I was glad I did not wear the dress. “You clean up well yourself.” I replied back wittily. We asked about each other’s day and followed up with the generic responses of “It was good. How was yours?” And that about summed up the conversation on the trip.

When we got to the mall he bought the movie tickets and I bought the snacks (A large popcorn with extra butter. Obviously.) Before we made our way towards the theatre. We sat next to each other and played that awkward game ‘of should I hold their hand?’ While our arms waited patiently pressed flush up against each other’s. And that is how we spent the entirety of the movie. Honestly, between all the side eyes and awkward smiles, I can’t even remember at this point if I did hold his hand. But I do recall the vague sensation of fingers touching and something like a caress.

After the movie ended the tension seemed to lift a little bit. Maybe it was because we were more comfortable in each other’s presence after 2 hours of sitting pressed right up against each other. Or maybe it was because we could each breathe a sigh of relief knowing the date would be over soon enough. Regardless of the reason, we did walk hand in hand to the car smiling and talking about the movie.

The car ride home made space for a little more conversation. He boldly tried to make me laugh by telling a few jokes which did not land so much as crashed and burned. Even so, I gave a few pity chuckles to sweep up the debris of his embarrassment. I could tell he was nervous and I began to think I mistook his nerves as a ‘lack-of-chemistry’ between us. Perhaps he was actually enjoying himself on this date. There was a sheen of perspiration coating his forehead between awkward laugh which confirmed my speculation. His feelings on the evening became more apparent when he pulled up in front of my house to say goodbye. I had made up my mind already, and probably had made it up even before I left my house that I was just not interested in him ‘in that way’ but I gave props to myself for trying. Honestly, I did like him. He was funny or atleast trying to be and he was kind. I could definitely see us being friends. However, what was kicking me in the butt at that moment was the guilt I felt for wasting his time. But there was no time to sit in that guilt as I saw him prepare his mouth for an apparent kiss goodbye. He licked his lips and I noticed a ring on the right corner of his mouth. A hooped lip ring. I too anxiously bit my bottom lip taking a moment to chew on my own piercing which was no more than a stick going top to bottom through the center of my lip with a little metal ball on each end. I bet at this point you’re wondering Why is there so much detail on the face jewelry? Well, buckle up. You’re about to find out.

Suddenly, time slowed down as I saw him turn to me and smile. His face began Inching closer, his lips slightly puckered. I felt like a target and he was an arrow shot by William Tell. I did not want to kiss him. I did not want to kiss him. So what did I do? My panicked mind attempted to play it off and go in for an innocent kiss on the cheek. Unfortunately, the trajectory in which our mouths were headed was somewhat perpendicular. Causing our lips to intersect right up against each other’s at the most awkward possible angle. You see, with both of us having our lips pierced, and me turning my head towards his cheek at the last second the ball of my ring looped perfectly into the hoop of his like a fish on a hook. And Ta-Da! Just like that, we were stuck. We chuckled nervously. Our bad popcorn breath painting each other’s faces as the words Oh my God played on repeat inside my head. I was mortified. “Oh... uh.. I was going for your cheek.” I mumbled as clearly as I could. Embarrassment colored my skin and I reached up trying to untie the knot of metal that kept us glued to each others faces. After a good minute my fingers hit that magical spot that freed us. And we both quickly jumped away from each other as if there was a rattlesnake between us. We were both making an odd noise that sounded like laughter mixed with panicked gasping. And I decided that sound in itself inexplicably described how this date felt for me. “Well, uh.. I should head out.” I stated refusing to meet his eyes which were still fuming in embarrassment. He nodded. “Yeah, sure. I uh..had fun and I’ll text you.” he said In a voice that strongly suggested he would never text me again. I offered a wave goodbye and stumbled out of his car. I didn’t even care if I tripped and fell at this point. Honestly, I kind of hoped I’d break my leg just to have something else to focus on. With escape being the only thing on my mind I couldn’t keep myself from jogging up to the door. After offering one more obligatory wave I jumped inside the house slamming the door shut behind me and swearing to myself that I would happily become the crazy cat lady and never ever go on another date again for the rest my life.

And for the record I actually did date again. I even got married. To a lovely, non lip-pierced man.