Tuesday, January 27, 2009

A First Date

To say that Scott isn’t good with picking out gifts is unfair. Typically, because I have specific “gifts” in mind, I tend to give him a specific list of ideas and hope he doesn’t stray from the list too much. This year for Christmas was a little different. Due to a minor lack of “fundage” even though I gave Scott a list, it was quite vague, quite small and I left a lot up to Scott. And really, my story just goes to show how much someone can surprise you if you let them.

One of Scott’s gifts to me this year was far beyond tangible. He gave me twelve days. One day each month that he would take me out on (gasp) a date!

And while this might not seem like a lot, it is. With precious little time and money, we tend to put “us” stuff to the side and focus on the “house” stuff-bills, groceries, power. Previous date nights were sporadic and poorly planned, consisting mostly of a quick dinner and a movie.

With this gift, come rules. Scott is ultimately in control of where we go and what we do, although I can offer suggestions, Scott will plan each date on his own.

So, without further ado, here’s the first date:

After clearing babysitting detail for Ashleigh with Mom (Cyra had a sleepover at a friend’s house), Scott set our first date for January 10 and wouldn’t tell me anything about it. All day long I wondered and waited for him to get home from work.

Ok, by waited, I mean, I went to a girl scout meeting, ran errands, went to the library, did some laundry, dropped Cyra off at Olivia’s and bought a new pair of jeans that actually fit (in case Scott chose a casual setting).

Scott surprised me with his venue for the night. I figured he’d ease into “datiness” with a return to tried and true dinner and a movie. Instead, he told me when he got home that he wanted to go bowling. Now for those that might laugh, I have developed a great fondness for bowling, especially when it involves disco balls. So I was quite excited. Scott, although he decided on bowling, couldn’t decide where he wanted to go eat and asked for a suggestion. I said, “Well, if we’re bowling, the only logical place to eat is, of course, Steak and Shake.”

And off we went. Steak and Shake was hopping for an early Saturday night, so it took a few minutes to be seated. Once we sat down we began perusing the menu; although really I don’t know why I did, I always get the same thing every time: Turkey melt, cheesy fries, diet coke, and a coffee shake. But Scott needed to browse the items. So while he pondered what triple-decker delight he’d partake in, I watched the goings-on around the restaurant. The servers were moving like elegantly choreographed ballerinas, swooping, dancing, gliding in and around tables, balancing trays filled with bubbly soda and smooth thick shakes. It was a beauty to watch and it struck me then: I miss waitressing.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to quit my nice cushy job that offers benefits and four months off a year, but I honestly think I was a better waitress than I am a teacher. I was good at it, evidenced by my plethora of $20 tips. I could go home and actually leave work at work! It had drawbacks, of course, as every job does, but I was really good at it.

Anyway, back on track, Scott ordered a huge triple-decker “man” burger with oozy cheese, bacon and God knows what other type of meat was thrown on top of the hamburger, fries and coleslaw (eww). Not only did he manage to finish his food, but he ate some of my fries too. He complained that I ruined perfectly good fries with cheese while I argued right back that he ruined perfectly good fries with ketchup!

After dinner, we headed over to Bowl America on Beach Blvd. A dingy little hole in the wall bowling alley, but really? What bowling alley isn’t? We played four games. The first game was spent trying to get the feel for the game again-it had been some time since we’d been bowling. And Scott still totally bowls like Frankenstein’s Monster. Stiff, ungainly, and well, dorky. Scott won by one point in the first game we both came in well under 100. The second game was a bit better for both of us. Scott still beat me and I will claim that I had a ball malfunction. It wasn’t a large victory, only about 5 points, but still, I was getting grouchy with all the losing! Then that blessed time of night came when the lights went out, the disco ball came on and the lanes were lit with black lights-Cosmic Bowling had arrived!!

It was our third game. Scott kept mocking me and my technique. Granted I kept mocking him as well, but still the karma flowed in my favor for the third game. Was it the loud hip hop music that thrummed in our ears? The bright flashing lights that raked across the lanes like UFO’s searching for people to abduct? I might never know, but I do know this, my third game is always my best game!! I trounced Scott with a 20 point victory!! I mocked. I gloated. I danced about in the dark while amused people in the lanes next to us laughed at my childish antics (they then carried on with their own childish antics so I wasn’t the only one!).

Then my joy was deflated like a perfect soufflé that collapses under the intense scrutiny from a judge in a cooking contest. Mayhap it was my selfish gloating, my egotistical narcissism, or the fact that my thumb kept getting stuck in my ball. Who knows, but the last game ushered in my sad defeat. If we are to talk trounced this is the game in which I was trounced. Thoroughly. Completely. Systematically. The difference between the scores is too shameful to even mention. Suffice to say, Scott reined in at well over 100, while I barely hit 70. It was sad.

What wasn’t sad though, was the night! We had a great time. It has been a long, long time since we went out and had that much fun. Alcohol wasn’t even involved at all! I can’t wait to see what he has in mind for February!

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