The Day(s) After - Part 2

As I pull the line I want to SCREAM. But of course I don't. I act cool, calm and collected, but it is a giant lie. I'm freaking out in a serious way.

I get off the street car and take a deep breath of chilly late March air. The cold air helps to control my need to vomit but it doesn't get rid of it completely.

I make my way to the cross walk and push the button. I wait for the light to change and cross the street. As I walk along the street I'm looking back and forth for the restaurant. I finally see it on the corner and I have to stop for a second because I have no idea which door is the entrance, and I have to get enough guts to get my ass inside.

From the street I can see Mr. Producer sitting at a table by the window. Well at least he showed up, that a good start right? I finally head to the door - it turns out it is the back door - so typical of me.

I walk in and make my way to the table. When I approach he looks up and smiles. I sit down. I'm finding it very hard to make eye contact. In fact, I'm finding it hard not to bolt for the door.
But I don't. I sit. Giggle. Smile. Really act like a total retard. I know that's not a PC word, but I'm not always so PC.

Eventually the waitress comes over and takes my drink order. Vodka soda with lime. I'd like to order a double but that might be a bit much for a first impression. We make a little small talk. I'm not even sure what I'm saying. At some point I actually ask him if he thinks I look like my photo - the photo is all of three weeks old, who the fuck else would it look like?!?!

I quickly consume the first drink hoping that it will take the edge off. Make my tummy feel a wee bit better. Boy am I wrong. Nope, not better at all. But he's smiling at me. He's making conversation. I'm saying words in response but at this moment I have no idea what they are.

As some point I comment on how weird this whole experience is and he nods but quickly follows it up with...

"Don't worry about it. I'm just enjoying looking at such a beautiful woman."

Ummm... are you for real!?!?! I think he is. He means it. I love it. I'm so happy that he has actually said the words out loud that I want to kiss him right then and there.

Eventually we order a little food. I have three more drinks and pick at my salad. We get our bill and he offers me a ride home. Of course I refuse at first. It is the right thing to do. The next time he offers, I accept.

We walk to his car and I notice how tall his is. The Ex is only 5'9. The Producer is 6'2. Significant difference. Why I notice and then feel the need to compare is beyond me but I do.

He opens my door and walks around to his side. Once we get in he reaches for his glasses. Ummm, can we say HOT! SEXY! Well I can, and I do. Yep, I tell him right there that the glasses are hot. I believe I even add that I dig 'em. So smooth it is painful!

I ask if I can hook up my iPod to his radio as we've been sharing songs all week. I play him a little more Amy Winehouse - my girl crush of the moment, and up the silly factor with a little singing and seat dancing.

He smiles, a lot. I know when I'm cute and I have turned cute up as far as I can. We drive a little ways and he decides it is time to hook up his iPod and treat me to some dark German tracks.

We approach my place and he pulls the car over. There is a bit of silence and we make small talk. I tell him to pull into the courtyard driveway and he asks if he can come up to meet my pooch. He's been nothing but a gentlemen so I say yes.

We make our way up to my place. I'm now in my zone so my comfort level has increased 10 fold as where his is declining with each passing moment. I can read his level of uncomfortable and try to steer the conversation to neutral topics. It works. He meets the pooch. We make a little more small talk and then the pooch and I walk him out to his car.

We say goodnight at the car. He gives me a tiny little kiss on the cheek and tells me that he's had a good time and hopes that we can see each other again. I say yes - of course, and wish him a good night.

As he pulls out of my parking lot I smile to myself. I take my first deep breath in a long time. I don't know if I will ever see Mr. Producer again but it is OK. He has given more on our first date then he will ever know. All it took was one stranger and one night and I know it will all be OK.

I will be OK.

Thank you Mr. Producer for more than just a great first date.