by Robin Roseau
“Now who is the smart ass?” I shifted my gaze. “Espresso, no whip.”
“That’s what it was,” Eliza said. She gave my hand a squeeze.
We collected our orders and found seats, this time on the little sofa, sitting side by side. I drank a little of my espresso then set it aside and rotated towards her. I smiled. “So. Tell me something about yourself nearly no one knows.”
“Oh, wow,” she replied. “Seriously?”
“I’m making conversation,” I said. “And frankly, we won’t learn much about each other if we engage in small talk.”
“All right, Astrid,” she said, speaking slowly. “In my younger days, I was the lead singer for a Bangles tribute band.”
“Oh, wow,” I said. “Seriously?”
“Totally,” she confirmed. “Unfortunately, my voice isn’t what it used to be.”
“Darn. I was totally ready to dance like an Egyptian.”
She smiled. “Do you know any other songs of theirs?”
“I’m sure I’ve heard some, haven’t I?”
“Frankly, I don’t know.”
“Got video?”
“Of the real band?”
“No, no,” I said. “You and your band.”
“I might, but we don’t know each other that well.”
“Aw, come on,” I said. I gestured to her phone.
“You don’t really think smart phones existed when I had big hair, do you?”
“Tell me there aren’t any videos of your band on your phone, and I’ll drop it.”
“And you would believe me?”
“If you want to base our entire relationship on lies, I can’t stop you,” I said.
“Oh, now you’re going to guilt me besides?”
She studied me for a moment then picked up her phone and started playing with it. I laughed. “Yes!”
“You’re going to laugh.”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “You can handle it.”
“Remember, it was a tribute band. We were supposed to look like the real stars.”
“Uh, huh. And you didn’t love and adore them while doing it. Face it. The 80s are famous for some rather interesting fashion choices.”
“Like gauges?” she asked.
“I don’t have them,” I said. “Nor do I have any ink.” I waved my fingers at the phone. We shifted closer together, then she cradled it for me.
The video quality wasn’t very good, which wasn’t surprising, and it was on her phone besides, but I sat, rather enrapt, as the band played a song I’d never heard. It was really good, and after it ended, I sat quietly for a minute before I said, “That’s a really pretty song.”
“My favorite,” Eliza said.
“That was you singing, right?”
“You couldn’t recognize me?”
“It was, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You were good.”
“I was okay,” she said. “It was a phase.” She smiled and put her phone away. “Your turn.”
“I haven’t lived long enough to have done anything notable.”
“Oh, you don’t think I’m going to let you get away with a statement like that, do you?”
“When I was little,” I said, “I used to pretend I was a cat, like, all the time. Well, a talking cat. But I took on cat mannerisms.” I held my hands in front of me like they were paws, and then I pretended to lick one and brush at my hair.
Eliza laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I eventually outgrew it.”
“When was that?”
“Last year.”
She laughed again. “Seriously?”
“I don’t know. I never had a Hello Kitty phase, but I had my own kitty phase.”
“That’s cute,” she said. I realized I was still holding my hands that way, and so I dropped them, then I took her hand again.
“Did you know that’s the story you were going to tell when you prompted me?”
“Guilty.”
“So you told me something lots of people know, because you’ve been telling all your dates?”
“Hey!” I said. I gestured to her phone. “I bet that was at some sort of concert you did. A whole lot more people know about your thing for Mrs. Bangles than know about my kitty thing.”
“That’s fair,” she agreed. “But tell me something no one else knows.”
“All right.” I leaned and whispered into her ear. “I think I like you.”
She stilled and then turned to look at me, her face sober. I wondered if I’d said something wrong. And then she said, “I’m not sure what to make of that.”
“Don’t make anything of it,” I said. “What did Jean tell you?”
“She told me I was making a mistake, and that she wanted to introduce me to an especially sweet girl.”
“And then you got me instead,” I said.
“Don’t do that.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “She really said I was especially sweet?”
“Yes, she did.”
“That’s nice to hear,” I said. “This can be weird if we want to make it weird, but do you know what I decided?”
“What’s that?”
“That I wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want to do, nor with anyone I didn’t want to do it with. But I like you.” I studied her. “And you’re having a reality check.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Scaring yourself?”
“A little.”
“I’m having a good time. Are you having a good time?”
“I am,” she said. “Very much.”
“Well then, don’t worry about the rest of that. We’re just two women getting to know each other.”
“Except one of us is flirting my ass off.”
I froze then looked down. Was I coming off too strongly? I’d been feeling playful.
“It’s okay, Astrid,” Eliza said. “I wasn’t criticizing.”
“Jean told me you could use a good first, first date.”
“A first-first date?” Eliza echoed.
“You know. The first time you have a first date with one of us.”
“So that’s all this is to you? You’re showing me a good time?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Eliza,” I said. “Wow, I’m really not doing well this afternoon.”
“No, Astrid,” she said after a moment. “You’re perfect. I’m the one with hang-ups.”
“Maybe we should start over. I’m Astrid. I’m your blind date tonight. I’ve been looking forward to this since Jean told me about you.”
“My pleasure, Astrid,” Eliza said.
“Tell me what you like to do for fun.”
* * * *
Things got better. 5:30 came around. We hadn’t even left the Caribou for a walk about the mall. So I smiled and said, “Invite me to dinner.”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said with a grin. “Where are you taking me?”
“IHOP,” she said with a straight face. As I didn’t even know where to find an International House of Pancakes, I was pretty sure she was teasing.
“Okay. Do you think I can get a Cobb salad?”
“I’m sure.”
* * * *
Dinner was lovely. No, she didn’t take me to IHOP. When she wasn’t thinking about us too much, Eliza was fascinating and funny. She’d long paid the bill, but we stayed, still talking. But finally she grew quiet while looking at me.
“Well,” she said.
“Well,” I replied.
“Now what happens?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Does my question have an answer?”
“It probably does,” I suggested. “But which answer is going to depend significantly on another question.”
“Which is?’
“What do you want to happen next? And are we talking about what happens next, as in, we get up and each head home? Or what happens next, as in, do you
want to see me again.”
“Well, I was thinking of the latter. Did you just tell me I shouldn’t try to invite you home?”
“Not on a school night,” I explained. “Let’s talk about after tonight. You have to decide if you want to see me again. Maybe now that you’ve had a nice girl-next-door date, you want to try one of those other girls. I wouldn’t necessarily blame you.”
“What if that’s not what I want.”
“Before this goes too far, we have a conversation about why I signed up with Gentle Affection. That needs to be in private. But not tonight.”
“Right. School night and all that.”
“Right,” I confirmed. “So we’re going to get up. Maybe you want to drive me home. Maybe driving into St. Paul isn’t your favorite thing on a work night, and I’ll take an Uber.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I think I’d like to, though.”
“Then I guess that’s next.”
* * * *
We walked slowly. I held onto her arm and leaned into her for most of the walk. She brought me to a nice car, leading me to the passenger door. She’d gotten quiet again, and I thought she might want to kiss me, but this wasn’t exactly the right setting.
“I can trust you,” I said. “And you can trust me.”
“Right. Trust.”
“There’s a place,” I said. “If you wanted to make out for a few minutes.”
She snorted. “Neither of us is a teenager.”
“I’m nineteen, so yes, one of us is a teenager. I don’t want a kiss in the parking ramp. I don’t want something awkward while we’re in the front seat, parked at my dorm. I can’t invite you up. And it’s too late to take me home with you unless it’s on the way to school.”
“It’s not.”
“I’d enjoy a proper kiss, but not here. Your choice.”
“Get in. Where is this place?”
Our first kiss was pretty good. Our second was even better. By the fifth, we had steamed up the windows. We kissed once more, then I said, “Now it’s time to drive me home.”
“Do I have to?”
“I’m afraid so.” But we stared at each other for another minute, Eliza’s hand pressed against my cheek. Then, slowly, she dropped her hand, but she gave me one more, quick kiss before we moved back to the front of the car.
For the drive to campus, she was quiet. It wasn’t until she pulled through the campus gate that she said, “I don’t know how much to pay you.”
“I’m like a lawyer,” I said. “Initial consultations are free.”
She snorted. “That was a lot more than an initial consultation.”
“If you ask me out again, we’ll chat. It doesn’t need to be the first thing we do, but it should be in the first half of the evening.”
“I’d like to understand up front.”
I didn’t respond, not immediately, but instead directed her where to park. We came to a stop, and I waited until the car was in park before I fully turned to her. “We’ll have a longer conversation,” I said. “The short explanation is simple. My entire family disowned me when they found out I’m a lesbian.”
“What?” she spat.
“I pursued other avenues, but I couldn’t get enough financial aid. I registered with Gentle Affection so I wouldn’t have to drop out of school.”
“Astrid,” she said.
I set my hand on her arm. “It’s okay. It wasn’t. I thought my world was ending. But I’ve met a few women I really like. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”
“You can’t possibly want to date old hags like me.”
“Unless you were acting tonight, you’re not a hag,” I said firmly. “But if it turns out you are, then I’ll stop seeing you.”
“So you admit I’m old?”
“Eliza, I’m 19. If you want to play word games with me, you’ll win. So I concede right now.” Yes, it was a line I’d used before, and I thought it likely I’d use it again. She inclined her head, so I continued. “I will point out we steamed up the windows, and I wasn’t acting. All right? You can either trust me to be honest or not, but if you think I’m a big, fat liar, I’d rather not hear from you again.”
“Astrid,” she said, a little reproving this time. “But I don’t understand.”
“I know, which is why I wanted a longer conversation when we had time to work through it.”
“Oh. You’ve been through that conversation.”
“Only a few times,” I said, downplaying it a little. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. I had a lot of problems with this at the beginning, but I came to a few decisions, and that’s made it a lot easier.”
“What decisions?”
“I’ve already said it once or twice. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do. Maybe I wouldn’t have made myself available to significantly older women, but I would have been limiting myself. Eliza, I like you. You’re smart, and you’re funny, and I like the way you’ve treated me so far. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. She stared at me a moment longer. “If I’d gone out with one of those other girls?”
“I haven’t even met any,” I said. “I don’t know what they’re like. But I’ve heard the word predatory used for some of them. I imagine some are quite sweet.” I smiled. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I hope I hear from you. Eliza. I like you, and I had a nice time tonight.” I didn’t wait for any promises, but I smiled once more then climbed from the car.
* * * *
Jean called me the next day. “How did it go?”
“Quite well,” I said. “I like her.”
After that, I didn’t hear from Eliza. When it had gone a week, I dropped Jean a note. “It’s not urgent, but please call me.” My phone rang a half hour later.
We exchanged pleasantries, and then Jean said, “So. What’s up?”
“Eliza. I haven’t heard from her.”
“Ah.”
“I’m not going to, am I?”
“I wouldn’t rule the chance out entirely.”
“She didn't like me.”
“Actually, she liked you quite a bit. In my opinion, she’s making a mistake.”
“Because I’m that awesome?”
“You are that awesome, Astrid, so I hope that wasn’t sarcasm. Some of our patrons see all of this as a business transaction.”
“She wants one of the girls who has a price sheet.”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s not me.”
“No, it’s not, and I hope you’re not thinking of becoming like that.”
“No, I’m not,” I confirmed. “Seriously?”
“People come into this for different reasons, Astrid. Some of our patrons love the idea of taking care of their sugar baby. But that comes with emotional strings, and some of our patrons don’t care for that element. Eliza could use that emotional connection, but she’s afraid of when it ends.”
I thought about it. “I guess I can understand protecting her emotions, then.”
“She’s fairly sure she’d fall in love with you. She’s also fairly sure you wouldn’t fall in love with her. So she’s pursuing girls she doesn’t think she’s going to like very much, but who will give her other things she wants.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s too bad.”
“If she changes her mind, do you still want to hear from her?”
“I liked her, Jean, but I’m not going to beg.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I’d let her buy forgiveness with a small vase of flowers.”
Jean laughed. “I’ll make a note.”
* * * *
No, I never heard from Eliza again. When I think about her, which isn’t often, I mentally wish her the best.
More
So, where was I? Ah. Yes. Several weeks. Six first dates. Number five was brief. Her name was Ida. Apparently, she was named after her grandmother. Ca
ribou had become my go-to location for first dates, and so I took an Uber and waited for her.
A woman of about 50 years old approached me, only a few minutes late. “You’re Astrid.”
“Hello, Ida.”
She looked me up and down, and her expression was unkind. “What are you? Fifteen?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” And then she turned around and rapidly walked away with me watching after her. I stared for what seemed like several minutes, but probably wasn’t remotely that long.
“Well, fuck,” I said. It wasn’t really that bad, but she’d taken me entirely surprise. I pulled out my phone and sent Jean a text. Apparently, I look 15. I may have to ask for Uber money up front if this keeps up.
I was actually in my Uber taking me back to campus when my phone rang. “What happened?”
“Hello to you, too, Jean,” I said.
“Tell me you’re safe.”
“My friendly Uber driver is bringing me back to school,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“She took one look and decided I’m jail bait or something.”
“Astrid, I need a better account than that.”
I sighed. “She accused me of looking 15 then said she can’t do this and walked away. The entire encounter didn’t last five seconds.”
“All right. I’m sorry. Things like this happen.”
“I bet it’s worse if I do something like that.”
“Yeah, it is,” she admitted. “Were you serious about asking for Uber money up front?”
“No.”
“We can do that if necessary, Astrid.”
“I don’t want to be in a position where someone thinks I’m obligated to give her an entire date because they’ve paid for one,” I replied.
“All right,” she replied. “I’ll need to talk to Ida.”
“I understand. Do you spend this kind of time with all your girls?”
“It’s not that much time,” she said. “You’re pretty low maintenance.”
I received an email several hours later. “We made a direct deposit to your checking account. It should cover your Uber tonight. Ida was apologetic and took full responsibility.”
I wrote back. “She didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”
* * * *
The last of the first dates was with a woman named Georgieanne. Georgieanne assured me, early in our email exchanges, that she didn’t care for her name to be shortened, and if I couldn’t actually use her full name, we would be a bad pair. I promised to never shorten it.