I’ve never been anxious like this before. I stood outside of the local Applebee’s waiting for my first Valentine’s Day date. My eyes lurked around the parking lot as I rubbed the sweat from the palms that had been secreting as I wait for her. The full moon shined against the pavement on this winter day as it just stopped raining a couple of hours ago. I grew tired trying to make myself busy trying to see my breathe in the cold air, while I wait.
It wasn’t too long until I saw a black car pull up adjacent to where I was standing. I saw the passenger door open and my date gracefully get out the car. She smiled at me as if it were her apology for being late. I knew I should have been angrier than I was because she lived two blocks away from the Applebee’s and I lived about two cities away, but seeing her curls bounce as she walked towards me and her eyes gleam in the light of the full moon made up for her lateness.
As soon as we set foot inside the Applebee’s, we were escorted to our seat by our waiter. I guess a lot of couples don’t spend the day of romance at their neighborhood grill. We were placed at a table next to the bar with tall stools for chairs, high enough for me to have to wiggle myself up to sit correctly. Oddly enough, I sat exactly where I can see the television and my favorite basketball team, The Los Angeles Lakers, was playing.
The waiter, in his all black uniform and apron gave us our menu. “Can we start you off with a drink?” he asked while taking his pen and pad from his kangaroo pouch. I ordered myself a lemonade with no ice, as she proceeded by ordering a Coke. Our waiter took our drink order and walked away to give us time to make a food order. Throughout us contemplating on what to eat, I found myself glancing on the television to check the score of the game.
By the time the waiter came back with our drinks we were ready to order. As the gentleman, I allowed my beautiful date to order first. It ended up being a poor decision. I was quietly surprised as my date ordered the country fried steak, which happened to be one of the most expensive entrees on the menu. Being a high school student working a minimum wage job, I became money conscious, grasping my wallet from the outside of my jean pocket in hopes that I had enough to pay for this dinner. In result of her decision, I decided to work away from the entrees to the appetizer section and ordered some mozzarella sticks.
We started to converse about our everyday happenings as we waited for our food. It went along like a normal chat with little to no flirting. In all honesty, she was doing most of the talking, and I was doing most of the “listening”. Maybe it was because her delicious dinner decision left a bad taste in my mouth. After about 15-20 minutes of conversation, our food arrived to our table. Without hesitation, she took her knife and fork and began to eat her succulent, gravy-covered country fried steak, while I took one of my sticks to dip in the complementary marinara sauce.
My date continued her conversation, while I continued to tune about 25% of it out. We laughed and smiled about whatever she was talking about. I thought I had her fooled until she asked me one of the most embarrassing questions I’ve had on a date. “Are you listening to me?” she asked with a perplexed expression. I told her, “Yes of course.” She then responded by saying, “It doesn’t look like it. I can see the reflection of the Laker game in your eyes.”