the date

by jennifer

he chose chili's for their wide selection of margaritas.

during the ten minute drive to the restaurant, though i tried, i couldn't remember what he looked like. the only recollection that i could conjure of him was of his greying hair and goatee.

when i arrived he was standing askance of the bar, alternating glances between the door and the basketball game showing on the television.
when i walked through the door, he met my eyes slowly and smiled just slightly.

i remembered my attraction to him at that moment. he wore khaki pants and a pale green polo shirt that accented the green of his eyes. i wanted to think that he had dressed to impress me, but i knew that this was what he had been wearing all day at work.

we decided to sit in the restaurant rather than the bar, and began to pour over the the margarita menu. i decided on one kind of margarita; he decided on another. together we decided to share an appetizer platter.

when the waiter came, he ordered for both of us.

the waiter takes away the margarita menu, our conversation shifts, and we find ourselves making painfully awkward small talk.

i wonder how long it will be before the margaritas will come and save us.

"let's play twenty questions," i suggest.

"twenty questions?' he asks, dubiously.

"yeah. i'll ask you a question, then you ask me one."

"ok..." he seems skeptical.

"i'll start. what's your favorite color?"

he lets out a short laugh.

"what?"

"i get the feeling the questions are going to get harder than this."

"not necessarily!"

"ok. blue."

he asks me about my favorite movie.

"when harry met sally."

"that's an interesting one," he says. "do you think that men and women can be friends?"

"no," i say, decisively.

"no?! i have lots of woman friends."

"the only guy friends i have are gay."

i tell him that it's too complicated to befriend guys. maybe you have ulterior motives. maybe they do. and then what about when you're in a relationship with someone else? will you still hang out with your "friend" of the opposite sex?

at this point the margaritas have arrived. and i have been drinking mine rather quickly.

we agree to disagree.

first impressions. recalling the *first* time we met, back in december, he tells me that he was "impressed" when he first met me. impressed because of my education, my intelligence, my "cute-ness." and he remembers that i told him i would probably be moving. leaving austin.

this is the moment that i had been dreading.

"i am moving. i got a new job out of state."

"really?!" he says, seeming genuinely excited for me. "that's great! congratulations!"

"yeah," i say. "i'm happy. happy to have this new job. i really wanted it. but i'm also sad to have to leave austin."

he tells me that, having been born and raised in austin, he has, on three separate occasions, given serious consideration to moving to colorado, new mexico, and california. "i still think i might move someday! it's just that now i have more holding me here," he says. i think that he is making reference to his new house.

"what about you? first impressions of me," he asks.

i tell him that i thought was handsome. funny. easy-going. "but i thought you might be married." i had seen him sitting with his little sister at church.

"you haven't seen me with anyone else?"

"no..."

"because i have another friend that i sit with sometimes. you probably know her. her name is ___________."

"no. i don't know her."

"oh. she's a good friend."

"is she a friend? or is she a friend?"

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, is she your platonic friend or is she your friend/maybe-more-than-a-friend?"

"maybe more than a friend."

"oh," i say and suddenly feel the margarita, the greasy appetizers, and the dessert we are now sharing swirl around in my stomach. i put my fork down.

"what's wrong?" he says. "don't stop eating."

"no. it's just that my stomach is feeling kind of gross. i think that this dessert is too sweet."

"are you ok?"

"yeah. i'll be fine."

"i wasn't lying the other day when you asked me if i had a girlfriend. she's not my girlfriend. we just have a history. and we're friends now. this--me being here with you--is not weird for me at all. is it weird for you?"

"uh. no. but i don't have a boyfriend. or anyone who is kind of like a boyfriend."

"she's not my girlfriend," he insists.

the rest of the date feels like falling action. my slight drunkenness turns quickly turned into tiredness. i tell him that i should let him go. he has to work early the next morning after all. he reminds me that we haven't finished our twenty questions. though we have not been counting, we continue.

finally, he notices the waiter wiping off booths and asks if the restaurant is closed. it is.

he walks me to my car. notices the moon, how it is almost full. tells me about his trip to teotihuacán, climbing to the top of the pyramid of the moon. i tell him that i have also been there. he talks and talks. mostly about little nothings. i feel like he's stalling.

i suggest that we call it a night.

at my car door, he faces me. we look at each other expectantly.

"well are you going to kiss me good night?" i ask.

and he does. and i wish that he wouldn't have. because it is perfect. and i want more. so we kiss more. and then say good-night.

i drive home with a pit in my stomach. and the feeling that this might end badly for me. wondering if maybe it is already over.