When Two Weirds Collide: Our Love Story (Chapter 10)

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Chapter 8
Chapter 9

Chapter 10

I was standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, checking out my make-up, when the phone rang. I glanced down at the display: it was Raj.

I stared at the face in the mirror as the phone cheerfully played it's song. This was it. What would it be?

I pressed the green button to answer his call.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hey! How are you doing?" Raj asked.

I wasn't sure how to act. Could I allow myself to me warm and happy? It felt like everything hung in the balance of what Raj was about to say to me.

"Good, fine. How are you doing?" I answered cautiously while I chanted Please don't mess this up, please don't mess this up in my head. I hated the thought that I would have to be done with him if he canceled on me today over something as minor as a head cold. But I needed to be smarter when it came to dating. Self-preservation was essential. If he canceled, I would do the right thing and walk away from what would surely be a doomed romance.

Ah shit, though. Would that really be the right thing to do?

"You know, I feel so much better after sleeping for a bit," Raj said. "I think I am just exhausted after all the manual labor I did building my garage this weekend. I'm really sorry that I left you hanging. Are you still up for going out tonight?"

The relief I felt was enormous. There would be no need for me to decide whether or not to reschedule with Raj. He was into me.

"Yes, I'm still up for tonight," I said with a smile. "I am very much up for tonight."

We hashed out the details of what we would do. We would grab something to eat and then possibly catch the late showing of I Heart Huckabees. We decided that he would pick me up around 7:30 pm. Now that the date was definitely on, my already nervous stomach took it up a notch. I felt ill. Oh, why did I have to feel so painfully nervous about tonight?

I moved about my apartment, stacking magazines neatly and loading the dishwasher, as the last bit of light in the overcast sky disappeared. Soon it was pitch black outside. My black boots clicked on the wood floor as I scurried around and I questioned if this tidying was really necessary. Was he going to come up when he picked me up? Or, more importantly, would he come up after the date? Wow. This was all very...real. The cats circled around me, getting in my way; they seemed to have picked up on my mood.

Once the apartment looked clean, I went back to my bedroom to re-check my appearance. I carefully inspected myself from head to toe, questioning my outfit for the millionth time. I had decided to go with my light gray Express pants paired with a sexy black tank that had a plunging cross-over neckline. My jean jacket and a pink wool pashmina would be my only nod to the frigid weather. Obviously, looking good was far, FAR more important than feeling warm on a night like tonight. After critically critiquing my appearance,  I adjusted my boobs to be more cleavagey. Then I adjusted them back to be less cleavagey. What was my cleavage game plan here?

I was incredibly, horribly nervous. My stomach clenched, angry that I'd barely been able to eat that day. I went to the kitchen and forced down a granola bar, my jaw chewing mechanically. Then I brushed my teeth again. I looked at the clock: I still had an hour to go. So I began to make phone calls - to my friends, my mom, my sister - anything to pass the time and also to get second, third and fourth opinions on my outfit. Well, I left my mom out of outfit critiquing. I didn't think she would be able to get on board with showcased cleavage and weather-inappropriate outerwear. So I called her simply for nerve calming.

Finally, an entire decade later, the buzzer sounded and I stopped breathing. He was downstairs. Oh God. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. I forced myself to breathe and reminded myself that this was something I wanted. A good thing! This first date was simply an initial hurdle to jump over. I put my jean jacket on and wrapped my pink pashmina loosely around my neck. I grabbed my small black bag on the coffee table, called out "Wish me luck!" to the cats and left my apartment, locking the door behind me.

I threw the keys in my bag and made my way down the first set of interior stairs. As I reached the landing to go down the final several steps, I realized that I was walking right into a prom date scenario. Raj would be able to see me coming down step by step through the window in the door. I felt exposed and on display. Please don't let me wipe out on these stupid narrow stairs like I've done so many other times.  I reached the final step without making a fool of myself and could finally see Raj's face. We immediately smiled at each other through the window.

Willing the nausea away, I pulled the heavy front door open.

"Hey!" Raj said, his voice warm. "You look great."

Butterflies. Many of them. Fluttering, flying, and beating the hell out of my already delicate stomach.

"You look mighty fine, too," I said with a grin and immediately kicked myself for my tendency to try to be extra funny when I was nervous. Mighty fine? But he really did look mighty fine. He was wearing black dress pants, a dark red button-down shirt, black shoes and a black wool coat. I was a bit surprised and flattered that he had dressed up, especially after seeing him in against-dress-code-jeans so often at work.

We made small talk as we walked to his car, commenting on how cold it had become in the past week. Raj opened the passenger car door for me - fancy! - and in the seconds it took him to walk around to his side of the car I forced myself to take a couple deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Then he opened his car door and got inside.

Any calm I had gained from those deep breaths left me as his coat sleeve brushed against my arm. Were all consoles this tiny? Or was it a Subaru thing? We seemed so close to each other. I could feel my heart racing from us nearly touching, which was ridiculous. I tried to take the rational approach with myself: what was the big deal? We were two people, in a car together, going to a restaurant.

It didn't work. Because every cell in my body was telling me that this was all a very big deal.

"So where to?" Raj asked me as he started the car.

"Oh, let's see. An Uptown place makes the most sense, right?" Raj nodded in agreement - the movie was playing in Uptown. I rattled off a few restaurant suggestions casually, as though they were all just occurring to me, when really I'd come up with ideas in advance.

We decided on La Bodega, a tapas restaurant not far from my apartment. The thought of eating in front of Raj was terrifying - I was such a clumsy, awkward eater, and it was only worse when I was nervous - but there was no way I would be the girl who ate very little on a date. Besides, I really did love food. I just didn't love having to eat food on first dates.

We drove the few blocks to the restaurant and found a parking spot on the street. We walked quickly into the restaurant, our heads down against the harsh wind. The warmth of the restaurant felt wonderful after that bone chilling moment outside. I could picture my mom shaking her head at my light coat on this below-freezing night.

Raj and I stood next to each other as we waited at the unmanned hostess station. I took a quick glance at him from the corner of my eye; I was so attracted to him.  The butterflies threatened a revolt once more. I forced myself to focus on the small talk that Raj and I were making as we waited to be seated. But while we talked, my mind continued it's background chatter. I wondered if others would think we were a couple. Or if our first-dateness was obvious. Just then, the hostess returned to her station and was able to seat us immediately at a cozy table in the corner. She gave us our food menus and a drink menu and left us to look them over.

"Want to order a bottle of wine?" Raj asked me. It was a Monday night. I had to be at work early the next day. I'd barely eaten that day. There was only one answer.

"Sure!" I said enthusiastically. I looked over the wine list, having no clue. I usually picked whatever glass of red wine was the cheapest.

"What do you think? Should we do a red wine?" Raj asked.

"Yes. I like red wine. Um..." I looked down at the wine list feeling really young and unsure which wine would be the best choice. The least expensive one? A mid-priced one? One with a hint of summer's dew and overtones of tobacco? Yeah, I was clueless. "You know what? I don't know a ton about wine. You pick."

"OK," Raj said agreeably. He scanned through the choices. "How about the Marques de Caceres? Have you had a Rioja before?" He pointed to a wine midway down on the list. "I've had it before. It's good."

"Great!" I pronounced after briefly glancing at the description. I smiled at him, glad to have that decided without much input from me. I took a moment to look around. The atmosphere of the restaurant was perfect for a date: small tables, dim lights and seductive Latin music playing at just the right volume. I looked back at Raj. I hoped I was covering up how damn freaked out I was. Just then, the server arrived to take our drink order, saving me from trying to come up with a conversation topic for the next minute at least.

As the server walked away to get our bottle of wine, Raj turned his gaze back to me. When we looked at each other, it felt intense to the point where I could barely maintain eye contact. Just two people, sitting at a table, getting dinner at a restaurant, I reminded myself.

"Should we decide what to order?" I asked. I looked down at the menu in front of me, trying to pick out foods that would be the least awkward to eat. I mentally crossed off foods that might get stuck in my teeth or be overly chewy. We debated on what tapas we wanted to order and Raj was all for trying an assortment. I was glad to find that Raj was a fun and adventurous eater, daily peanut butter & jelly sandwiches aside. I added that to the mental file of Raj facts. The server brought over the wine, which she had Raj sample before pouring us each a full glass. I picked up my glass, thankful both for having something to do with my hands and for the chance to calm my nerves through wine.

But even without the wine, I would have begun to relax. Raj was easy to talk to and our conversation flowed easily, going in all directions. He told me about building his huge garage - the Garage-Mahal he called it - and how he was completely renovating his duplex himself. I told him about how I loved to read and dreamed of someday being a writer. We talked of our childhoods and how we were raised. I told him about growing up in Fargo and he told me about growing up in Virginia. We talked about our siblings and our families. He told me about going to the College of William and Mary in the early 90s. I told him that when he had been boozing it up at college parties, I had been bopping around at Junior High dances.

And we talked about previous partners. I confessed to Raj that I had recently been in a relationship that had ended badly. As I was telling him about it, I questioned if that was a huge mistake, but somehow I couldn't not tell him. It seemed important that he know where I was coming from.

And Raj himself had a story to tell. He had been engaged a couple years ago and had broken the engagement when he realized it was a mistake. Uncharacteristically, I wasn't bothered to learn this about Raj. I was curious, but not threatened or jealous. Maybe it was something with the sincere and open way Raj told me or maybe it was because I was a bit relieved to find he had his own baggage.

Then the conversation moved away from our exes and we talked about places we had traveled to and compared our personal versions of a dream vacation.

An hour passed and then two and it dawned on me that I was having a really good time. The butterflies remained, but felt less violent and more of a pleasant-I-have-a-major-crush variety. Although it no longer seemed like crush was the right word. I just really liked Raj. A lot. He was not only meeting my expectations, but exceeding them. He had passed my not-at-all-subtle deal breaker questions with flying colors and he was interesting, confident, and had the right combination of similar and different interests from me. Tonight, at least what had gone down so far, was officially the best first date I had ever been on.

We continued to linger at the restaurant, finishing the bottle of wine as the server cleared away mostly empty plates. Eventually we found ourselves sitting at an empty table. Our conversation had slowed down from the quick pace we had kept up the past two and a half hours.

"Should we get out of here?" Raj asked.

"Yes." I replied, pulling my cell phone out of my bag to check the time. "Uh oh. The movie started 15 minutes ago."

"Oh shit!" Raj said with a smile, clearly not really caring. "Well, what should we do?"

I smiled at the realization that Raj didn't want this date to end either. We debated what to do next. Go to a bar? A coffee shop? Then Raj said, "Hey, wanna see my garage?"

His garage? I laughed, and said "Sure. Let's go see the Garage-Mahal."

I put my jacket and scarf on and while the walk back to the car was painfully cold, I was less aware of it than I had been a few hours earlier. The wine, the excitement, the fact that this was all going so very well, it made the late October wind feel far less brutal. We got into his car and drove down the highway to his place.

Our conversation picked back up. It seemed like there was so much to say, entire lifetimes to catch up on. Raj made me laugh during a story, as he had many time that night, and as I turned to look at him, I once again felt my heart thump at his close proximity to me.

And then I noticed something a little off.  I was experiencing a sensation that once I identified it, had me feeling extremely alarmed. I couldn't have...could I? My mind raced as I searched for an answer to why I was suddenly feeling like I had peed my pants.

"Do you want me to turn down the seat warmers?" Raj asked suddenly and glanced over at me.

"The what?" Seat warmers?  What did that mean?

"You know, seat warmers," he pointed to the buttons between the two bucket seats. "I can turn them to a lower setting. I put them on high since it's so cold out."

Dude. DUDE. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing. Seat warmers! And not, in fact, pants peeing!

"You know, I could maybe use them on a lower heat," I said, wanting to tell him what had just happened, but having just enough sense to know that I should wait to share that little tidbit of information. A few minutes later we arrived at Raj's duplex in Northeast Minneapolis, bladder function fully intact.

He turned down the alley and pulled up next to his Garage-Mahal. I ooh and aahed over it, since Raj was clearly so proud of it, having done much of the construction himself, although to me it was pretty much just a huge two-story garage. As he told me various facts about garage construction, I found myself tuning him out a bit and turning into my own thoughts. What exactly what was going to happen next? Were we going to go to his house? He had a roommate - would that roommate be there? That would be weird...

My internal questions were interrupted by Raj. "OK, we saw my garage. I would invite you inside, but my place is a mess with all the construction. There isn't really anywhere to sit and my roommate is home, so it's probably best if we go somewhere else."

"That's fine," I answered. We began to debate once more what we should do. Suddenly Raj grabbed a  receipt that was sitting on his dash and said, "You want to get a car wash with me? I have one that I need to use before it expires tomorrow."

"A car wash?" I asked laughingly. "Why not?"

"Awesome," Raj gave me a sly grin. "Hey, I just need to hop out and move that tarp back over the lumber. The wind must have moved it. This will just take me a second."

I sat in the running car, enjoying my butt heat courtesy of the seat warmers, and watched Raj yank on a gigantic dirty tarp in his dress clothes. A car wash was such a crazy thing to do on a first date, but Raj was kind of crazy. In such a good way. And really, a car wash seemed kind of romantic. We would be in our own little world, unable to see anything but suds around us and we would be talking and he could lean in and...

Was he going to kiss me in the car wash? Was that his master plan? A first kiss in a car wash. That would be...spectacular.

And then that excited-sick feeling came over me in a powerful wave. He was going to kiss me. Soon. Very soon.

To be continued...