Sunday, October 23, 2005

Surprise! It's a date.

A cute coworker and I have been flirting for a while, but I never thought anything would come of it. My friend Madrid said she didn't think his flirting was personal, that Mr. B. is just a flirty type. Just in case it was personal, she added the demure advice, "Don't shit where you eat." While her way of saying it was repulsive, I agree with the sentiment. I messed around with a coworker in the past (someone I wasn't even that interested in him...I was just horny) and it turned out okay, but I decided I wouldn't do it again. So imagine my surprise Friday when I found out I was on a surprise date.

It's Mr. B's first year as a teacher, and I remember how hard that was. It was only going out Friday night with Madrid, Laura and Carolina that kept me sane. He's also living with his parents right now, as he recently graduated. I had to do that right after I graduated, too, and it's very stressful. So I invited him to join our Friday night dinner and drinking session at the Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden in Astoria. He agreed. Then, at the last moment, Madrid dropped out of the night's festivities and everyone else decided on a change of venue. So Mr. B and I ended up having dinner their on our own. We had some drinks, kielbasa and good conversation while flirting. Then the bill came and I reached for my wallet. He said no, that he would pay. I said he didn't have to. He replied something like "I know, but I'm old-fashioned. When go out with someone, I like to pay. Besides, it was fun date...good conversation." That's as close as I can remember due to the tequila involved. Anyway, after he said that I was like, "DAMN! I'm on a date!" Who knew? Until then, not me. I mean, yes, we flirted and that night there'd been several little did-he-mean-to-touch-me touches, but it had remained a gray area. Well, not any more.

We then hopped in his car and drove to Tropix to meet up with Carolina, Laura and her coworkers. I got to use an ipod for the first time, and played Al Green for the duration of the drive. Then we drank and danced. I boogied with my girls, tried to teach Laura swing (unsuccefully), tried to teach Mr. B to dance (also unsuccessfully, but still fun) and did a little grinding for the first time in years (quite successfully). A definite plus for Mr. B: He's not a good dancer, but he dances anyway without being self-conscious about it. I gave a few of my usual backrubs: one for Laura, one for Carolina and one for Mr. B, at which point he proclaimed, "God! This is like ecstasy, seriously." I don't know if he meant "an overwhelming feeling of great happiness or joyful excitement" or the drug, but either way it's a nice compliment.

At one a.m. I had to go home because I had a required workshop at 8:30 the next morning. Mr. B insisted on driving me home. We put on more soul music and he drove me back (I was buzzed, but he was sober). When we got to my place, he gave me a simple kiss. It was sweet, but I was a little worried at the time because he didn't try for more. Then I thought, "One, I'm smashed; two, I have to get up early; and three, maybe he's a gentleman!" It'd been so long since I ran into one of those.

We'll see what comes of it. Whether we go out again or not, I had a great night, and that's what matters.

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