Last night around 6 I received a text message from my streak breaker reading as follows: "Dinner... Movie... In bed by 10... What could be better?" Despite the fact that I had just returned to work and had promised myself to work until 9, I told him I could leave around 8. Even though he kissed me last Wednesday, watched a movie at my place on Friday and came to a party at my place on Sunday and called me both on Saturday and Monday - I was still feeling insecure about the whole thing and frustrated that he hadn't asked me out on a real date. I didn't want him to fall into some sort of "hang out/make out" mode. Not exactly what I'm looking for.
But Sunday night when he came to the birthday party I threw for a friend and stayed until the bitter end . . . talking to the birthday girl, a twinge of jealousy made me realize I kind of like this guy more than I was letting on. I debated back and forth whether he stayed for me or stayed to talk to her. I am not a fan of the ambiguous beginning stages of dating and the emotional roller coaster ride that can ensue once I let me guard down.
But last night I was excited for dinner, an opportunity to explore what was going on. We work only a few blocks apart from each other and agreed on a restaurant near my office at which to meet. When he arrived he suggested we go somewhere else - Sushi Samba, in the Village. I don't normally leave mid-town during the week but I reluctantly agreed. So we jumped on the subway and started our Sushi Samba adventure. We didn't make it to the Village because when the train stopped at 23rd Street he decided there was one near there and we should get out. After a 10-15 minute walk in the freeeeeeeezing cold we found it - and there was a 20 minute wait. By this time it was 9 pm and I was starving. We waited in the bar and tried to have a conversation in the extremely loud party atmosphere - Sushi Samba was all decked out for Mardi Gras. The hostesses, servers, bar tenders and bus boys all had painted faces and I have to admit I was a bit disappointed because I was hoping for something a bit more intimate so we could talk.
When we sat down for dinner we were in for another surprise - a naked surprise. Okay, so not totally naked just all but the absolute essentials were out for show - I even saw full naked buttocks. We were seated in a corner of the restaurant that was thankfully a bit more quiet than the bar had been. I was sitting against the wall and my date had his back to the room. A New Orleans style brass band started playing - then the dancing girls came out. Two very scantily clad women with more fabric on their heads in giant feathered headresses than on their bodies jiggled their way down the aisles. My poor date was mortified! He swore there were not normally naked women dancing at Sushi Samba and I laughed and laughed. How often does one go on a date and get to see other women dancing nearly naked? In my case - this was a first. My favorite part is when one of them was behind him and he looked at me and said "she's right behind me, isn't she?" Throughout dinner the music would start back up and my two naked friends would jiggle their way past me - I say jiggle because I believe dancing doesn't really describe what it was they were doing.
After dinner, despite the time we decided to scout out somewhere for dessert. His first suggestion was ice cream which I immediately vetoed given the 15 degree temperature and we wandered down to Union Square in an attempt to hit Starbucks (another 10 minute walk). We soon discovered that in the city that never sleeps there is an exception for bitter cold Tuesday nights - the city was taking a power nap. After more wandering in the cold with the only benefit being a reason to be very close to him - we decided to go to McDonalds, a place I hate but I assumed they would have hot chocolate. . . normally they would. But last night they were out of hot chocolate, apple pie, cookies - even ice cream! - and basically anything else we could have called dessert. So we sat down at a booth with only the late crew mopping up and a couple of homeless people a few tables away and ended our date chatting in McDonalds.
Conversation highlights: he admitted he sought me out and he called me "gorgeous". Not-so-high-but-not-necessarily-low-light: he admitted he very recently broke off a serious relationship - I agreed we can be slow but I need to know where I stand. Disappointing but honest.
Around 1145 we both agreed it was time to go and we ventured back out into the cold. I told him I was taking a cab and at the curb he kissed me. Let me explain the scene a bit better. We were at the curb outside of McDonalds between piles of garbage (and when I say piles I mean mountains of garbage, the kind that always surface late at night in NYC) in the bitter cold . . . but it somehow felt romantic. He hailed me a cab (no boy has ever hailed me a cab, I probably have never let anyone hail me a cab before) and we reluctantly said good night.