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november38577

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When I saw my, now, boyfriend, I couldn't believe how gorgeous he was. I was a waitress & he & his 2 buddies came in & sat in my section near the bar. His one friend had tattoos on his forearms & his other a black Hawk's hat. He was wearing a Red Sox hat, grey sweatpants & an old T-shirt. He was rocking white socks & Birkenstocks along with crutches & a huge brace on his left knee. When doing my job & making small-talk with the guys at my table, they wanted drinks so I had to card them. With all 3 military ID's staring me in the eyes, I noticed that Mr. Red Sox hat had the same birthday as mine, a few years apart. I thought it was open game for a conversation. So, I opened up my mouth & we spoke.

When the food was ready, the chef’s called my name. One of my co-workers, I called her Mamma Jane; she asked if I needed help taking the guys their plates. I said "Yes please!" She asked me "Who's getting this plate?", as she raised the rosemary chicken with rice. I replied, "The hot guy on the right!" She spun out the walk-way & upon approaching the table, she placed the plate in front of the guy with the black Hawk's hat. As I came to their table, I said, "Oh no. Not him, the one next to him." She laughed & said, "Oh, I thought you said the 'hawk' guy on the right?" Without thinking, I corrected her: "The HOT guy on the right." I froze in my tracks & was embarrassed. I knew that I was heard by everyone. My face was red & they were all laughing. Before I could walk away, 'the Hot Guy on the Right' touched my hand & insisted, "Now, what was all that about?" I felt like crawling under a table & dying. I brushed it off & laughed nervously & replied, "Oh.. uhmm.. *gulp* nothing. She asked who the plate was for & I told her 'the hot guy on the right', meaning, uhmm.. well, meaning you." He took his hand off mine & his face was beat red. His buddy across the table said "You'll have to excuse my friend, here. He doesn't know how to take compliments, he doesn't get them often." Me, in my infinite stupidity, commented, "Well, I don't see why not." Like I said, in my infinite stupidity!

I wrote my name & number with a cute little comment about how he should show me around town (I was new there).  I slipped it in the booklet for his check. When I went to go clean off their table, I was shocked to see him still sitting in the booth, leaning on one of his crutches with his arms. He extended his right hand & shook mine, introducing himself formally. I was impressed & shocked at his gentleman-like conduct & pointed to my nametag, joking how he already knew my name & how I had known his from when I had carded them all. He smiled & said, "Oh, yeah. Well, what time do you get off from here? When can I call you?" I thought about how I still had 15 tables to clean & 30 shakers to organize, as well as silverware to roll & my side work of every single barbeque sauce in the restaurant to fill & clean. I told him "A lil' after midnight I should be outta here." He said, "Well, alright. I'll call you then. Have a good night." I crossed my heart with my right hand as I placed it on my neck & bashfully replied, "Have a good night, too." He smiled back at me as he swung himself on his crutches.  He exited the building along with his 2 buddies who had been waiting at the front doors for him.  

About an hour and a half later, I was on my way home. I noticed he had called & he had kept his word. I called him back once I parked in front of the house. He let me know he was on Charge of Quarters (CQ) in the barracks for the next 24 hours, so the earliest we could hang out would be Monday. He would need to catch some sleep the following Sunday night. I told him that was fine & to call whenever he was ready.

Monday came quickly, & to my surprise, I was ridiculously nervous. My older sister had lent me her brown and tan shirt with a light tan jacket. I wore my jeans & brown high heels. I was freaking out. I blow dried my hair straight & applied my makeup rather light. I sprayed my iconic Cool Water for Women on my chest & neck, as I had been doing since the 8^th grade. My sister thought it was hilarious to watch me running around the house, freaking out about the purse, the keys, the cell phone, the eye liner, etc. She sat on the couch, watching me, as if I were a Soap Opera. She couldn’t top laughing at me. She called my name a few times, but I just wasn’t paying attention. Everything needed to be perfect. Finally, she yelled at me. I stopped, winded, & said “What?” She asked me “Does he drive a white truck?” I wrinkled my brow & replied “I dunno? Why?” My sister snickered, “’Cuz he’s here.” I ran up the steps to check in the bathroom if I was good enough to present myself to him. I heard the knock at the door & my sister let him in. She introduced herself & he did as well. As I came to the landing just before the steps to the living room, where they were, I took a very deep breath. I had never once in my life been on a date alone. I had never once in my entire life ever really been on a date. This was going to make history for me.

I came into the living room with a nervous bit in my walk, purse swinging rapidly on my right arm. He smiled, took a breath in, & said “Hi.” My sister addressing him took his attention from me. She looked at him with a smile & remarked “You can’t keep her out too late, now. I hope you’re not a serial killer or anything. Drive careful with that knee & Mallory…” I turned & looked at her. “-have fun.” With my sister’s blessing & some nerves pushed aside, we exited the house. He opened up the passenger door & gestured for me to hop in. I did so accordingly, placing my purse on my lap, reaching for the seatbelt. I leaned over & unhinged the driver side door for him & he climbed in & get comfortable. He looked at me “I hope you like Italian?” I smiled “I love it.” He took me to this older, Ma & Pa’s place, Italian Tavern. Once parked, he came around to open my door & assist me out of the truck. He opened the restaurant door & insisted “After you.”  We entered & it was quaint but homey. I couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. The hostess asked “A booth is OK?” I turned to look at him, but he was stuck with a smile. I told her “Yes, please.” We sat in the second to last booth on the left side of the restaurant. The seats were fire engine red with glass over a black & white table. The silverware was rolled up tightly in the charcoal black cloth napkins. I had a feeling it would be a wonderful evening. There was a baseball game on the small television which was hovering in the corner. He didn’t turn around once to watch it. I thought that was sweet. Under the television was a Scarface poster plastered to the wall like it had been there since the place had opened. It might have been the first wall decoration they had.

We made small talk of memories, embarrassing moments, places we used to live, places we’d love to visit, & just basically, everything. He told me all about his deployments & he joked that his decision to join the military was “a momentary lapse in judgment” but he didn’t mind being the Medic. He could handle the blood, stitches, needles, etc. I told him I couldn’t do it. The needles would freak me out way too much. We got to discussing music & movies. I discovered he likes Jimmie Hendrix, Lynard Skynard, Eric Clapton, & has gone to many different concerts. This was wild. I like that music, too. I am eclectic, so I’ll listen to almost anything, really. I had only gone to Warped Tour with my cousin & his friends in Florida the year before. To go to see other converts I thought would be amazing. We got into a small debate about Scarface & The Little Mermaid. I said that their greed & wanting was both their individual downfall. He thought it was interesting & kind of funny how I could manipulate a debate over the two because they are completely different. It was definitely one of the most memorable conversations in my time. We spoke of hobbies, as well. He enjoys mountain hiking, mountain biking, scuba diving, flying planes, riding jet skies, etc. Me? I told him how I enjoy playing 9 ball, the swings at the park, going to the beaches, walking on the boardwalk, & how I’ve never been on a mountain. His mouth fell with that one. After he finished his meal & I ate only half of my baked ziti, with it boxed up, he paid & tipped. We got on the road & I thought we were going back to my house to end the night, but I was mistaken. He told me “Now that I know you like to play pool, I want to play you to see just how good you are. Want to go?” I smiled at the challenge & happily accepted it.

We pulled up to this very large building with a huge neon lit apple. Funny enough, its name was The Big Apple. Being from New Jersey, I asked him “Why did they name it after New York City?” He looked confused. “What?” I smiled out of pure stupidity. “New York is known as the Big Apple. Why’s this place called that?” He hesitated & looked at me all seriously. “I have no idea.” We laughed together as we entered the brick building. Because I was not 21 yet, the man at the front door took my ID & shoved it in a metal box, got out a black Sharpie & made an “X” on both of my hands. We entered the pool hall/ bar/ televisions-for-walls area, just to be told no tables were open yet. We propped up at the bar & waited. There was a small dance floor assembled to our left which was directly in front of a very small stage with two side lights & a microphone. I felt a surge go through me: Karaoke. I prayed inside of myself for him not to suggest I sing. I have unparalleled stage fright, although I can sing. I just was not ready to share my voice with everyone. Finally a table was open & so we hopped on it before anyone else could. While I guarded the table, he found & obtained the proper balls & the properly weighted sticks for us.  We played 5 games of 9 ball & a single game of the regular 8 ball. I ended up winning by one 9 ball game. Unfortunately, our baseball teams were playing one another: Yankees vs. Red Sox. The Red Sox had beaten the Yankees. Ah well: we can’t win them all.

Upon getting home from that fantastic night out with him, I went straight to the fridge to put my baked ziti left over’s in it. When I came back out to the living room, he was standing near the edge of the love seat, looking at me. Through the blinds covering the windows, the street light outside shone in on him with just enough of a glow to make his eyes twinkle like stars. I knew what was about to happen. I positioned myself comfortably, leaning my backside on the arm of the love seat, looking up at his gorgeous face.

“I really had a great night, tonight.” I smiled but kept my eyes focused.

“Yeah, I did, too. We should do it again soon.” He stepped in towards me.

“Absolutely.” My heart was pounding through my chest & my ears were consumed by the loud thumping of my pulse as it raced. My finger tips were tingling & my lips felt his warm breath on them. I had no idea what was going through his mind at that point, but I knew I needed for him to kiss me. After a millisecond hesitation, he did.