Current mood: bouncy

Hi everyone,

A few weeks ago, I blogged about a singles mingle party I went to and how at the very end of the night I met a guy - I called him 'Steve' - and for the first time in a long time I met someone I actually liked. I had jokingly told him I was a nuclear physicist, but when I discovered he really is one, I was more or less forced to tell him the truth. That I did my best science work as a five year old when I got my first Ant Farm for Christmas.
Well, we had a fantastic talk but never exchanged numbers. My BFF kept trying to get me to give him my number but I was too [gun]shy.
Steve however, never left my mind. Last week, he tracked me down via email.
He had remembered the title of my book Phantom Lover after we talked at the party and unable to find me any other way, he googled me and found my website. He even found the blog where I'd talked about him (blushing).
His email was wonderful. "I enjoyed meeting you too and now feel encouraged to ask you out. "
So 'Steve' and I had a coffee date, then a dinner date and on Saturday he called me and invited me to dinner with his brother and his wife and despite my brain screaming "It's too soon for that!" I went. What if they hated me? What if Steve turned out to be a big raving clod after all?
Well, I already know I'm one, yet the guy keeps asking me out. My best male friend Gary told me to leave all my neuroses - and the Ant Farm - at home and have fun.
Fun. Oh yeah, I remember that...so where does he take me?
Dark. Yes. Dark.
A restaurant famed for its invisible food since all the waiters are blind and the meals are served in pitch black darkness, it is an unusual experience to say the least.
Steve's sister in law and I hit it off immediately, giggling like nine year olds and it was amusing to try and decipher the menu with minimal vision. Once you order - the seatings are all timed like clockwork - the place drops into total blackness.
There is an advantage to eating in the dark. You could pick my nose, your teeth, fumble in your partner's pants and for an extra bonus, not worry about how you look scarfing down your food.
Me, if they could have seen my face, they would have seen the big smile when Steve's hand reached across the table for mine in the dark.
It was a nice gesture. We held hands all evening and once we got used to the weirdness of the place, the food was great and we had already started building memories.
Then the fun began. The meal over, the lights came up, there was food all over the place and we all stared mortified at the messes we had made of ourselves and the table.
And I was not holding Steve's hand. I was holding the hand of some guy one very cramped table over who thought I was his date.
"Wasn't I playing footsies with you?" Steve asked me, perplexed.
"Holy cow...that was me," he brother said.
We had a good laugh about it, but I was bummed I hadn't held his hand all night. Goofy, right?
"Well, there is an upside to all this," Steve said, as he drove me home.
"There is?"
"Yeah. You can hold my hand now, if you like."
"I like." We drove north on the 405, enjoying that simple pleasure and his hand did feel nice. Very nice. I caught a look at his face, his smile was as giddy as mine.
Stay tuned.

Aloha oe,

A.J.

Currently listening : Beautiful Days / Kua'ana /