by H.T. Night
His breath smelled wintery fresh. My breath, on the other hand, was a combination of mouthwash, toothpaste and funnel cake.
Finally, we had reached the front of the line. There were still a few people in front of us.
“I think that sign lied,” I said to Robert. “This wait has been much, much longer.”
“So you regret spending all this time with me?” Robert joked.
“It was nine hours of nice, sweet conversation,” I said
“It hasn’t been nine hours,” Robert laughed.
I was still standing in front of Robert, who was affectionately leaning against my back with his chest. His arms weren’t around me, but he was leaning on me in just a way that our bodies were gently touching.
I turned around and faced Robert in line. I’d said the words louder than I wanted to. But everyone was far too wrapped up in their own lives to care about whatever I was saying. “Are you for real?” I asked Robert.
Robert looked at me, surprised, and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Is this your way with women?”
Robert looked at me and very sincerely said, “I’m sorry, Sahara, I don’t have a defined way with women. Until you said the phrase six seconds ago, I didn’t know that was another thing I had to worry about in the dating game. I don’t date enough to know if any of my instincts are correct.”
Robert gave me a look like he surprised himself at how honest and open he was.
“Your charm is your honesty,” I said. “Or the belief that you’re being genuine when you speak. It doesn’t come across as rehearsed.”
“You seemed like a season dater.”
“Like I said. At one point I was. I used Myspace as a dating site.”
“You’re on a dating site now.” Robert didn’t know I was actually on three.
“Yeah, but since my parents passing, I haven’t wanted to date.”
“Why do you suppose that is?” Robert asked.
I looked at Robert and wasn’t ready to give him my truth. We just met. So, instead I laughed about how pathetic my dating life has been. I looked at Robert and thought about what he had said about his dating game.
“If what you’re saying is correct,” I said to Robert, “you have no idea what works and doesn’t work on a date.”
“I mean, I know what is the right thing in terms of not making the woman feel like I’m a weirdo.”
“Are you a weirdo?” I asked. I was halfway kidding, however, I was interested in his response.
“Of course I’m not a weirdo. Besides being nose deep in my writing, I’m a bit of a sports nerd. I’m really into sports stats and stuff like that. But I’m pretty certain no one had ever classified me as a weirdo.”
“Wow, you might have proved you’re not a weirdo, but you definitely made a case for yourself as a nerd. You’re in luck because I have been classified a nerd most of my life. About halfway through my supposed nerd phase, I changed my wardrobe and makeup, just so people wouldn’t feel compelled to label me before knowing me. See back then, I was considered a nerd dressed in black...a dreary nerd.” It was a little bit fun just being open. Robert made it so easy.
“I collect comic books, too,” Robert said. “I think I’ve beaten you on the nerd scale, by admitting that.”
“That’s not so bad,” I replied.
“But I only collect Archie comic books.”
“Okay, you win. You’re the bigger nerd.”
We both laughed.
“Why Archie, and why not Superman, Batman, you know, the usual?”
“There’s a simplicity and innocence that the gang in the comics all have and it’s like comfort food. My older sister got me interested in the comic books because they were the only comics around the house. So, whenever I was scared at night, because I felt there were monsters under my bed or inside my closet, or if I felt especially lonely, I would pick up an Archie comic and fall asleep reading them. It’s not that they were boring, in fact they were kinda funny, but their simplicity would help me feel safe and comforted and they’d help me fall asleep.”
Once again, Robert had a weird look on his face as if he didn’t plan on telling me that last bit of information.
“Okay, that’s not being a nerd,” I said. “That’s something you bring up in therapy.”
“How did you know I go to therapy?” Robert asked, a little freaked out.
“I didn’t,” I said. “I was making a joke. I used the term therapy in my joke. You were the one who just volunteered the information that you see a therapist. And for the record, I see nothing wrong with that. We all need someone to talk to once in a while. If you can afford to talk to a professional talker like a therapist, all the more power to you.” I took a moment and gave Robert a giant smile and said, “Well, this is about the most un-suave conversation I have had this early on a first date,” I said. “We’re making a lot of firsts here.”
“Suave and me, we’re never a good match,” Robert said. “Here’s a funny story: When I was about fourteen, I had my first girlfriend. She was an older girl and was this real cool chick. Then right out of the blue, she asked me to go out with her and be her boyfriend. That’s how forward this girl was. Of course I said, ‘yes.’ We were boyfriend and girlfriend for one whole week. Then once again, out of the blue, she called me up and broke up with me. I asked her why she was breaking up with me. Her reason? She said I wasn’t suave. I was shocked, mainly because that was the first time in my life I’d heard the word ‘suave.’ I had no idea what it meant. I actually had to ask her the meaning of the word, just to show how completely un-suave I was.” Robert looked at me and smiled.
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. This guy was priceless. I was completely turned around facing Robert. I was looking him in his eyes and was trying to get an honest read on him.
Was his charm and honesty an act?
I didn’t think so. Every once in a while you ran into a guy who was fed up with the bullshit and they just were who they said they were. Most men weren’t. To be fair, most women weren’t either. Men and women treated a first date like a job interview and they said all the safe words. You sometimes ended the date knowing less about the person than you did when you started.
So, I asked him point-blank. The ride was starting and soon there would be a giant drop and he would be forced to hug me from behind as we went down the water slide.
“Are you a player?” I asked.
“Take a look at my waistline,” Robert said. “I’m not exactly a player. I enjoy food a little too much. Plus, sometimes, I stutter.”
“I stutter, too,” I said, amazed that I had admitted it to him. I didn’t think I had ever spoken about my stuttering with anyone besides my parents. “I’m at my worst,” I continued, “when I’m excited while telling a story.”
“Oh, that is also when I’m at my worst,” Robert agreed. “That is why I try to stay calm when a story calls for me to get animated. Animation and my personality are a stutterer’s paradise.”
“Your waistline is fine,” I said, giving Robert a wink. “I like food, too. Oh...we are going to be bad together. Chocolate sundaes and all the bacon you can eat.”
“Have you ever had a bacon shake?” Robert asked.
“Are you kidding me?” I said, laughing.
“Nope, I was at this hip place up in the hills. It was right there on the menu.”
“And you ordered it?” I said disgusted.
“Wouldn’t you? Just the novelty factor alone.”
Robert was just like me and I loved it.
“Did you like it?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of a pork shake.
Robert smiled at me.
“Well?” I was feeling a little gagged in my mouth.
“It was the best damn milkshake I ever had,” Robert said, laughing.
“No? Was it? How could it be?” I asked.
“Something about the combination of salty and sweet, I guess.”
“I don’t think
I could drink something like that.”
“I’m telling you, it’s freaking delicious.” Robert smiled at me and paused. I knew he was choosing the right words to say to me. He was an interesting character.
Robert stopped and looked at me and got serious. “Look, Sahara. I’m not a guy who comes into a date with an agenda and try to see how it all plays out just so I can chalk one up on my bedpost at night. I like you. I liked your profile on the dating site. And now, meeting you, you’re even more exquisite in person. You seem honest and direct. Both are traits I love.”
“It’s usually what turns men off about me,” I said.
“I love it.” Robert replied. “Listen, I don’t play games. I feel an initial closeness to you. I think you feel it, too. It’s nice when there is that type of chemistry right off the bat. It stinks that the world has jaded us so badly that when we have a true connection, our immediate response is to question it.”
“Are you doing the same thing now?” I asked. “Do you feel you and I have chemistry?”
“Yes,” Robert said with a tad of hesitation in his voice. “I think chemistry can only be a two-way street.”
“Trust me. There are enough delusional guys out there who have no clue.”
“I guess the million-dollar question is: Am I delusional guy who has no clue?” Robert asked.
“You’re not delusional,” I said. “What you are is...cute.”
“I think I like that answer a lot,” Robert said laughing.
I had to follow my instincts and trust this man until he proved himself to be a liar. Unfortunately, many men proved to be liars.
“What if?” Robert asked, “I wasn’t some guy just trying to get in your pants?”
“You’re not? I knew this dress made me look frumpy,” I joked.
“I’m being serious,” Robert persisted. “What if I was interested in you for who you are?”
“Why can’t you be both?” I said. “Desire me and be interested in me.”
Robert smiled and nodded shyly. “It’s all part of the journey.”
“What journey is that?” I asked.
“To fall in love,” Robert replied.
Chapter Four