On a warm and pleasant afternoon, ten years ago, I sneaked out of work early to get ready for my date with the gorgeous girl I had drinks with the night before. That night, after getting caught smooching in the parking lot, I asked that girl to be my Valentine's date. She agreed.
Weeks before, however, I had made a pact with my female friends that if we didn't have dates for Valentine's we would spend it together. These girls, which I had established a platonic relationship since moving to Austin, planned to prepare a Valentine's dinner; so, it was a big surprise when I called them up that evening to bail me out.
Okay, this is what happened: I was so excited to be on a date, since it had been a while since I went on one. So, nervous is perhaps the best word to describe myself that night.
As we got out of the car at the parking lot located a couple of blocks away from Romeo's Italian Restaurant, I fumbled with my jacket debating whether to wear it or not. After a few tussels, I decided to take my jacket with me, closed the car door, and made our way to the restaurant.
Needlesstosay, dinner was very romantic. The best part of the night, however, was listening to this beautiful girl talk about running elections. I tried my best not to sound stupid, so I kept quiet most of the time.
At the end of our meal, I knew I had succeeded. She was still seated next to me holding hands. I had passed the first test.
The date seemed flawless, until we reached the car. As we approached the car, I reached my hand into my pocket in search of my car keys. I tried one pocket. Then the next. Then my coat pockets. Nothing.
I managed to leave my keys inside the car. Yes, there they were resting comfortably on the driver's seat.
I stood thinking about what to do next. I didn't want to look like a fool. I didn't want this date to end wrong. Then I remembered I had given my spare key to my friend--the same friend who was preparing Valentine's dinner.
To be honest, a few days before, I was really planning on attending the Valentine's dinner. Plans changed when the relationship I was starting was, well, starting. I had to swallow my pride and call her.
My friend greeted me with joy which soon turned to disappointment when I explained the circumstance. I recall begging her to bail me out. She and her friend soon agree to drive 15 miles to downtown and rescue me.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived. And when they did, they made sure to capitalize on my distress. After a few jabs and examining my date, we were back in my car. Yay!
My Valentine soon became my girlfriend, then became my bride, and then the mother of our wonderful son.
Happy Valentines.
Read our unofficial first date here: http://photographywritingandmore.blogspot.com/2011/01/first-time-i-saw-her.html.
Visit my blog at http://photographywritingandmore.blogspot.com/.
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