We began texting a few days ago. Last night was no different. But eventually the casual “hey, how’s it going?” and “what are you up to tonight?” led to “want to meet up at Local Bar in 30 minutes?”
And that’s how the first date came to be.
He bought me a beer and we sat at a small table in the corner. He asked me to tell him more about myself. I talked about the time I spent in France and the past two years in New York. I learned where he grew up and where his family lives now. We argued over whether Austin or Dallas was the cooler city. (Obviously Austin, duh!) We commiserated about how boring our small little town can be. We talked about music, religion, and education. He told me he was “really attracted” to me and that it was almost “palpable”. And then he asked when he could kiss me. I smiled and told him “not right now because that would be completely awkward from across the table”. He laughed.
When we finished our drinks he asked if I would like to go for a walk.
“Umm…” I replied. Back in New York, going for a walk would be a normal activity, but here? In small town Texas? Not so much.
“We could go over to the bridge. It’s not that cold out.”
“Yeah… I guess we could,” I said, still not understanding.
“You don’t want to go, do you?”
“It’s not that… it just seems a little weird. People don’t really walk a lot here.”
“You’re making this really difficult on me!” he joked. “I wanted to take you to the bridge so I could kiss you there.”
“Oh.” I smiled.
A few minutes later we were shrugging on our jackets and leaving the bar. We walked the few short blocks to the bridge and stood overlooking the water. He told me funny stories about his friends. We laughed at the ducks quacking loudly below us. We talked some more. I looked at him and then back out to the water.
“Can I kiss you yet?” he asked.