Dates, Palms, and the Rob Who Has Both 

Coffee. Do I have time? I’m only an hour early. Does it matter? I can’t function without it. Without it I can’t be funny or charming. Some might argue that I can’t be funny or charming either way. Thanks.

Yeah this morning I’m sitting in the coffee shop arguing with myself. I haven’t even approached the counter. Why? Because I’m self-conscious. I’m nervous. I’ve got a date. I need coffee.

Do I need the jitters? What if it makes me pee? Then I wet my pants. Women dig that. This is a first date. I’m wearing dark pants. She won’t notice. I don’t think she’ll put her hand in my lap anyway. Not yet. Good, because the smell and the dripping won’t give it away. Dripping! Holy Crap!  What if I spill coffee?  My shirt is white! Maybe I don’t need the caffeine.

I’m right, but I still order a small cup. I’m so hyped on adrenaline, that the morning ichor boost could send me up the wall, around the room and down the other side.  I don’t want my date to think I’m possessed.

“Tell you what, you drive the car, I’m just gonna jog beside you.  I like jogging.  Jogging is good. It’s healthy.  You know this is a 45 zone.  You can speed up. I’ll keep up. I’ve had coffee. ”

Yeah, just a little coffee.  I’m going on a date.  And what does my 2500 mile away Pirate Queen say about this date? She says, “I’d love to.” She’s going on it too. It’s just her, and I, and 2500 miles of space filled with lots of imagination.  Maybe I should explain.

It started last Tuesday.  We were talking on the phone, and we touched on her visit in June. Although I enjoy our time together, I miss her being here.  I mean she’s never been here, but I’d love to go out with her--to date her. And that led me to a thought, “Why can’t I?”

What would our first date be like? What would we do?  I could do something creative, but from 2500 miles, too much creativity turns into an exercise of self-indulgence. I want to date her, not me.  For that, the simple cliché’ is best.  I email the Queen:

Ok, I've got this really crazy thought. You'll laugh. 

Wanna go see a movie Friday?  I'm goin' to see Watchmen.  Wanna come along?  I figure if you're game we can watch the movie at the same time. Sure, we can't hold hands and share popcorn but we can text or talk before and after, just like a date. 

Ok, it's not the same, but I still think it sounds fun.  Are you game?

She emailed back that Friday wasn’t good, but said she liked the idea. So after a few rounds of date book tag, we decided on a showing that would be a matinee for both of us. 

It was perfect.  I tried logging in and buying her ticket in advance, but her theater wouldn’t let me do that unless she presented my credit card at the box office. This was still a first date. I’m easy, but I have standards; my mom once told me, “Why buy the cow when you can milk the gold card for free?” My Pirate wasn’t gonna get in my wallet that easily.

My next step was to contact a florist.  I wanted her to have flowers for our date.  If I’d shown up at her door, I’d have brought them; I wanted to make sure she had them.  Every rose may have its thorn, but 1800flowers promised that they arrive on Saturday; thorns be damned. 

I wondered about getting her a car and a chauffer, but this was just a casual date.  I didn’t want to come off creepier than traditional Rob.  Locking her in the back of a limo with a lot of alcohol could go either way.  Best to let her drive herself.

This morning I shave; I shower; I spritz cologne. Everything I’d do before a date, I do now. She’s sent me a perfumed card; I sniff it before I leave so I can imagine her at the movie with me.  It would have been better if she’d sent me panties, then I could have pocketed them for the theater and sniffed them there, but we aren’t there yet, and I’m sure the other theater patrons are quite grateful.

“Mommy? What’s that man doing with the underwear and the popcorn?”

“Timmy, just keep your eyes on the movie.”

That brings us to here, to now, to her, to me, and to the watchmen. The date starts too soon. I feel like I need more time to prepare.

It starts as a typical date. I’m early. She’s not. She texts me that she’s just gotten home from school, and I reply that I’ll be there in 15 minutes.

“I'm late!  ;)  LOL - how did you know that was when I was planning on leaving? “

Cuz that’s when I’d have picked you up….

She doesn’t mention the flowers so I suspect that they still haven’t arrived.  That’s fine. Hopefully they’ll come before she leaves.  I send the picture that I took of me before I left my house.  “Knock Knock.”

The flowers don’t arrive her next text is from the theater, “I’m here!”

I send her a picture I took out side the theater, “me too!”

We go in together; rather than divide and conquer, she opts to walk with me to the snack bar.  I get a medium popcorn and a coke, so that we can split them.  After the coffee and the banana bread I just finished at the coffee shop, I’m thinking the sugar caffeine fix should drop my off over her theater in time to miss the previews.

It’s weird but it’s natural. We talk about what we’d do if we were together, and about the day so far. I can almost imagine her hook in the popcorn her other hand in mine. I try my best to make it real. The dude in the chair next to me doesn’t mind when I offer him the popcorn, but he scoots away when I grab his leg.

“I think he’s a great all around actor!”

“Did you see him at the Academy awards? He sucked!”

“I thought he was good.”

“Did you watch it?”

“No…”

Yeah, that’s not us. That’s the couple behind me/us. Her/us is sitting in an empty theater.  Lucky us.

I send her pictures of the theater, and of my hand. The one she’d be holding if she were here.  Go ahead; roll your eyes.  It’s my date, and I want to make an impression.  I want her to feel special, because even from 2500 miles away, I still feel like she’s here.

The next text is brief, “Starting here.” And like that, she crosses behind the moon: communication blackout. I have 10 minutes before my movie starts. It’s the one flaw in my nearly perfect plan.

We watch the movie, and afterwards compare notes. She’s home before I reach her again.  Her phone died.  She’s got the flowers though. She loves them. We compare movie notes.

“That sex scene was totally Hot.”

“I know!” I say, “did you catch the song they played on the Muzak in the office?”

Yeah, we all have our favorite parts.  Oh, I wasn’t denying her the sex scene, but the one playing through my head was a little different, and not gonna happen on our first date.  Even though I wasn’t getting lucky, I was lucky enough to find somebody willing to have fun.

“I had a great time!””

“Me too! I guess this is where I would kiss you goodnight…”

I’d tell you the rest, but you already know I don’t kiss and tell.  I will tell you that I had a wonderful date with a wonderful woman. It’s hard dating 2500 miles apart, but I’ve found somebody willing to try. After a lonely divorce, that’s something special to me. I’ll definitely ask the Pirate Queen out again.  Don’t tell her though, I wanna play hard to get.