Wine and Spirits

This wasn't the “you go for the breadsticks and endless soup-and-salad” type restaurant. It was the “a bottle of wine costs forty dolls, you can't pronounce half the items on the menu, and why are there snails?” kind of restaurant.

Jasper tugged uncomfortably at his sleeve cuff as he gazed around the restaurant. The rich mahogany booths and tables seemed to shine in the muted--atmospheric, he corrected himself--light. He felt woefully underdressed. He deeply regretted forgoing his suit jacket and tie. If he’d bothered to look up the restaurant beforehand, he wouldn't have settled on the red button down and black slacks he wore.

“Do you have a reservation?” The host asked, scrutinizing him.

“Yes,” Jasper hesitated, “it’s under Mathias Gaunaris.”

The host glanced at the reservation list. After a painfully long moment, he said, “This way.”

Jasper followed the host, weaving through the tables covered with white cloths, daintily folded napkins, and men in full suits and women in cocktail dresses. His stomach knotted. He hadn’t been in a setting this fancy since his brother’s wedding.

Jasper felt a wave of relief wash over him at the sight of Mathias sitting at one of the tables, surveying the menu. He was here! Not that he would have ghosted Jasper--! No, he simply wasn’t that kind of person, but it was reassuring to actually see him.

At their approach, Mathias looked up and smiled, “Jasper, I’m glad you’re here.”

As soon as Jasper was seated, the host left them to their own devices with a curt, “The server will be with you in a moment.”

“How are you?” Mathias asked as Jasper fumbled with the menu.

“I’m… alright?” Jasper flushed as he realized how uncertain he sounded. It felt like he could barely get the words out. Why was he so darn tongue-tied? It was a first date, yes, but still, it wasn’t as though they were strangers.

Granted, Jasper hadn’t known Mathias Gounaris particularly well before he asked him to give a presentation to his World Literature class. His class had just read a section of the Odyssey and, for cultural context, he requested that the History professor and Greece native come to his class. Jasper had spoken with Mathias before, of course, at the copier in the faculty lounge and in the hallway, but it hadn’t ventured much beyond pleasantries and conversations about their respective classes. Unsurprising to both of them, there was a great deal of overlap between literature and history.

After Mathias’ presentation, Jasper had a plethora of questions of his own. From there, their conversations shifted to anecdotes of Mathias’ life in Greece and his short stint in Venice, Italy before coming to the United States or about the endless mischief Jasper’s son and daughter got up to. From there, their conversation quickly evolved into more personal matters.

Perhaps Jasper should have been clued into Mathias’ interest, when he asked about Jasper’s divorce. Or how his questions shifted to the type men Jasper was interested in when he learned the reasoning behind the separation.

He hadn’t intended on accepting Mathias’ request for a date. He really hadn’t. But what could he say? Mathias was attractive, well educated, and endlessly fascinating to talk to.

“Jasper?” Mathias asked, frowning quizzically, concern etching his face. “Are you okay?”

Jarred from his thoughts, Jasper nodded, “Yeah. I’m fine.” He gestured around them. “I’m just not used to...all of this…”

He let out a slow breath, trying to calm his nerves and roiling gut. Why did he have butterflies like some teenager? It was just a date. Just a date. Just a date with the sexy History professor from down the hall--with his dark curls, black frame glasses, bone melting accent, good natured smile--

He swallowed. Okay. Maybe it was more than just a date.

“How were classes today?” He asked, grappling for a topic.

“They went well,” Mathias answered, “I just introduced the concept of parallel religions in my Ancient Civilizations class.”

From there, the conversation flowed more easily, falling into a familiar rhythm. Despite this, Jasper couldn’t relax entirely. Fortunately, Mathias didn’t say anything farther about his anxious state; however, he periodically gave Jasper concerned glances.

Partway through the meal, a server brought them a bottle of something--a Catena Alta Chardonnay, perhaps. Jasper couldn’t have said for sure.

Jasper reached to pour them each a glass. At the same time as Matthias. Their hands hit the bottle with just enough force to send it teetering.

Horrified, Jasper choked back a curse. The bottle crashed onto its slide--splashing wine across the white tablecloth--fell from the table, and smashed on the floor. Deafening silence rang as seemly everyone in the restaurant turned to stare at them.

It took Jasper a moment to truly register the damage. The tablecloth, carpeting, and, worst of all, Mathias’ suit were drenched in strong smelling wine. And glass shards covered the floor.

The spell broken, Jasper sputtered, “I’m so, so sorry!”

In a flurry, Jasper, Mathias, and an unfortunate server all moved to begin cleaning.

To say the least, the bill was paid, the waitstaff were heavily tipped, and they left. Jasper’s face was burning with humiliation as they were shown out.

Outside, he floundered, yet again, for words. “Matt, I’m so sorry! I ruined everything. Dinner, your suit--”

“No, you didn’t,” Mathias cut him off. “If anything, this is my fault. I’m the one who planned the date and I didn’t make an effort to accommodate you when you were clearly uncomfortable.”

“No, it was fine,” Jasper assured him. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, “Would you like to come to my place and clean up…? It’s not far.”

“I appreciate that,” Mathias said with a slight laughed. “A shower might be nice.”

Jasper flushed at the thought--though, for a completely different reason than before.

Later, at his apartment, after Mathias had showered and was wearing a pair of Jasper’s sweatpants and a t-shirt--much to Jasper’s private delight--they settled on the couch with a documentary.

“I'm sorry I don't have anything better,” Jasper apologized, setting a bottle of merlot and two glasses on the coffee table.

“I'm the one who should be apologizing,” Mathias shook his head ruefully. “I shouldn't have tried to plan something so extravagant. Especially for a first date.”

“Maybe not, but it’ll certainly make an exciting story,” Jasper mused. He poured himself a glass of the merlot and raised it. With an arched brow, he looked at Mathias. “To a more casual date?”

With a sigh, Mathias poured himself a glass and raised it in a toast, but smiled all the same, “To a more casual date.”

Despite everything, Jasper leaned comfortably against Mathias' side and Mathias draped an arm around his shoulders. The restaurant may have been a disaster, but what better way to end the night? A movie, a glass of merlot, and excellent company.