Trav's Thoughts

It occurs to me that I've been posting original stories and some of my favorite music and answering memes, but haven't really posted all that much about myself lately. I guess I've revealed a few things in Thursday 13 and in other memes. And I've referred to my special lady here and there.

Those of you who know me from Soul Patrol know about me and Pam. Some even know the story of how we met. It was at the gym last May. She made a crack about what a lightweight I was while I was doing leg presses. And she thumped me on the back of the head. When she found out about my knee injury playing football, she was a little contrite - but only a little. She wonders why I haven't done something about my knees in the 26 years since it happened. But that's a story for another day.

We often used the same trainer. But she likes to cycle train, and I prefer straight weights. So we didn't really work out together, just at the same time. After a couple weeks of small talk, I finally decided to ask her out. And she agreed to have dinner with me.

She was so intriguing. All business at the gym. That's where I was meeting her the night of our first date. I was a little bit late getting there because of a last minute thing at work. So she’d already warmed up and was into her cycles. During a 30 second rest she nodded her head at me. So I nodded back and started my own drill. You’d never know we were having dinner afterward.

She finished her work out before I did of course. I was working on lat rows – she walked passed me as I was setting the weight down and thumped me on the back of the head, and grinned over her shoulder as she walked to the locker room. That little head thump has become a recurring thing in our relationship. It makes me smile now, but on that night I finished my lat rows to snickers from everybody around me.

When I packed my kit that morning, I'd forgotten my electric shaver. So after I showered I decided against shaving – I really don’t like regular razors. She was chatting with some people in the lobby when I walked out of the locker room. She had her back to me and I couldn't help but stand there a minute and admire. She's got great curves. I walked up behind her and put my hand gently on her back, and asked if she was ready to go. She smiled and said goodbye to her friends.

That touch - exhilerating.

I put my bag in the car. She pays for a locker, so all she had was her handbag. The restaurant is only a few blocks from the gym – it was rainy that night, so I started to get the umbrella from the back seat, but she said not to bother. She's lived in the Seattle area a long time and the weather is what it is. Never really stops her from doing what she wants to do. I'm still adjusting.

I left the umbrella and I offered her my arm, she looped hers casually around mine, and we walked to the restaurant. It was a little muggy - this was June in the pacific northwest - but it didn’t rain or even drizzle, although the promise was in air. We walked slowly, just chatting. Touching her and being touched by her. . .absolutely electrifying.

(BTW – Her dress was pale yellow, straight cut with thin straps and a flowing skirt. For awhile, peeps on the message board called her my yellow dress lady. She had on flat shoes for walking. She’s not quite as tall as I am – she has to tilt her head a little to look me in the eye. Not much make-up; very natural looking. She’s got great curves, did I mention that?)

Earlier in the day I had cruised by a sidewalk florist and paid for a yellow rose. As we walked by, I nodded to the florist and plucked the rose, never breaking stride. That was a hit. Her face lights up when she smiles. Our reservation was for 7pm, and we were a little early so we sat at the bar. I had JD on the rocks; she had the house white. Again we just chatted – how was your day kind of stuff, you know? I said something inane, and she put her hand on my wrist. She had this way of smiling, and reaching for her glass, and taking a sip, and keeping her eyes on mine over the rim of the glass.

The atmosphere in this restaurant is really something – the tables aren’t close together, and you never notice the wait staff. There are small candle lamps on the tables, and very fine flatware. Our table was sort of in the center of the dining area, but it felt like we were enclosed and alone. It’s a good thing I already knew what I was going to order, because I couldn’t stop looking at her. And she wasn’t looking away from me, except to glance at the menu a couple of times.

She closed the menu finally and asked me to suggest something. I offered a couple of choices and she settled on the pasta primavera with penne in garlic & oregano, and I had pumpkin stuffed ravioli. Neither one of us really wanted to drink all that much more, so we each just ordered a glass of the house merlot. This place serves fantastic bread with olive oil, and I prepared a slice for her.

Our fingers kept touching while we were waiting for the meal. It was very comfortable – we talked a little, then we were quiet, and it wasn’t awkward at all. We found out the things you find out about each other – favorite color, music likes & dislikes, favorite television shows. When the waiter brought our dinner, I realized that I’d been holding her hand across the table for some time. Before she pulled her hand back, her thumb caressed the back of my hand, and then she squeezed my fingers.

During dinner we had an animated discussion about football – she’s a Seahawk fan and I’m a Raider fan. She knows the game – she knows the history, too. And she wouldn’t let me get away with any of my old Raider laments. But I wouldn’t let her whine about the officiating in the Super Bowl, either. Did I mention she has a great laugh?

She had her hooks in me real deep by then, and I don’t really know how it happened. I didn't have any complaints then, and I don't now. She's still got me hooked.

We weren't interested in dessert. As we were leaving the restaurant, naturally it had started to rain. Not a drizzle, but a downpour. I looked sideways at her, because it had been her idea to leave my umbrella in the car. She just shrugged. It’s really not fair when a beautiful woman shrugs like that. Women already have enough power – but that extra weapon, even used innocently. . .

I borrowed an umbrella from the restaurant. As I opened it, I raised my arm over her shoulder and she walked close to me. Touching her again, and being touched by her. . .we walked slowly back to my car. She lives downtown, just a few blocks from the gym. It was still raining hard so I drove her home.

There’s a small cutaway curb and an awning in front of her building. We stood under the awning for a few minutes, listening to the rain splash around us. She thanked me for a wonderful evening and I asked if we could do it again soon. She was standing very close to me. And then she leaned toward me, with her hands on my shoulders, and our lips met. My arms circled her waist.

All she had to do was tug a little and I would have gone upstairs and it would have been her idea and I would have done whatever she wanted me to do, and a few things she didn’t know she wanted me to do but wanted me to repeat as many times as possible.

Instead, she stepped back. I took her hands in mine and kissed her once more, and we said good night.

Best first date ever. And last first date I ever want.