Lots of craziness: lunch

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

lunch

(added: It was brought to my attention by someone who read the end before the beginning to p-l-e-a-s-e list the previous parts of this particular post. *In my best radio voice* If you are just joining us, please read this first, this second and this third and then come back.)

Don't you just hate it when you wake up from that dream. You know the one. The one that makes you look around expecting everything that your subconscious just imagined to be real? And then when you realize that it wasn't, that it is just a dream, you try to go back to sleep. But at a glance, you see that you are going to have to get up in three minutes anyway, so you may as well get up now. But you don't want to because your dream world was just so real and so perfect a few minutes ago.
That, dear reader, is how I woke up this morning. I was having one of those too perfect and too real dreams and I wanted so much to go back, to finish it, to feel it for a few more minutes, but instead my clock said it was 5:57 and so being the rational chic that I am, I got up.
And then it hit me, like a fucking brick wall.
I don't know what the hell I am going to wear. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bite me ok? At the end of the day, despite any misconceptions you all may have about me, I am still a chic and I still give a shit about what I am going to wear when I am meeting some mystery dude for lunch. An hour was clearly not going to be enough time to perform the miracle I was needing to make something magically appear in my closet. (That and I was lacking the eye of toad or skin of newt or whatever the fuck the spell book called for.) So, I went with my black and green skirt and my green blouse. Everyone has been telling me for months I look kick ass in green and so green it is. Jiffinner should be counting her lucky stars that I didn't call her ass at six in the AM to consult and cry.
So, showered, dressed, hair down and done, shoes, a tiny bit of makeup and kids and I am out the door. Off to daycare, off to work. Nervous, nervous... I hate being nervous, but at the same time you have to love that anticipation, those butterflies. All of it reminds you that while you doubted it, you do still feel. And I was feeling... a little nauseous... but oh well.
So work. O.M.G. What the fuck is it with work? To say that we have been slammed would be the understatement of the fucking year. The insane pile up of hellish paperwork on my desk would be the reason that it is taking me such an extraordinary amount of time to relate this all to you. But, I digress. Work is plentiful and busy and so much so that before I even realized it Jiffinner was standing in my doorway looking at me as though I were an idiot.
What?
Uh, hello? Do you want to be late?
Late? Late for-- ohmigod.
A glance at the clock and it is 12:47.
Yeah. Move your ass.
Grabbing my purse and my keys and my sunglasses and I am out the door. I turned around and looked at Jiffinner who just smiled at me and told me I looked fine and forget asking and get the fuck out already.
How do you prepare for this? I mean, blind dates I have been on and prepared for as I have with regular dates. Most of the time you just cross you fingers and hope that the date won't be an hour full of forced conversations with you trying to text message for help under the table while trying to act interested in his ambition to build his home in a semi truck trailer (true story but for another post). But how exactly does one prepare for some guy who says he knows her but and whom she is positive she has never met? Sadly, I didn't have much time to contemplate this as I only work about three minutes from the restaurant in which we were meeting. I parked and checked the mirror and then in I went.
The restaurant is fairly new and Mexican. When you walk in, there isn't a place to wait to meet your other party. There is a hostess stand and then a bar to the left. While the bar looked tempting, I doubted that stocking up on margaritas was a very good idea. I wasn't in the door ten seconds when I started to feel uncomfortable and started to doubt that being there was a good idea at all. Funny how you know you are waiting to meet someone and you know that it is obvious to every one around you but you still feel like a moron standing there twiddling your thumbs.
I could leave... I could leave and go back to work and say he never showed. But he could of course show up at my job since he somehow knows I work there. He could call me since he now has my number. He could be sitting in my fucking driveway when I get home for all I know. But do I really care who this guy is? Yes, Kate. Fuck. I looked at the clock - 1:02. I was giving him exactly three more minutes and then I was leaving because my nerves can't take it. 1:03 - I mean, I have been nervous before when meeting someone for lunch or dinner but not like this. Not like a fucking heart attack and omg I am freaking out. 1:04 ok, fuck it. I am not waiting.
I turned around and opened the door and there he was. And he smiled. And I stared. Shut up ok? You so would have stared too. Not in jeans today and while I love a guy in jeans, today he was in what I consider to be work attire. Black slacks, black shoes and a baby blue button up shirt. That curly and a little messy hair was tamed and combed and only a couple of pieces were out of place. But, it's his eyes, ok? His eyes are like something... something I haven't ever seen before. They are dark and bright at the same time. Yup, still staring.
Leaving already? I realize I am late, but just a few minutes...
Uh... yeah. Um. I wasn't leaving... just....
Yup folks, a big round of applause for Kate. She has some how managed to not say anything at all. If we add some drooling, then she can be rendered completely incompetent.
Good, so lunch then?
Uhm.. Yeah, of course.
Then he did that walk behind me thing which made it to where his evil powers weren't aimed directly at me so I could actually think and silently curse myself. I make faces when I do this so I am sure that the few people still in the restaurant thought I had a tick or something. Then, you know what he did? He pulled my chair out for me. No big deal right? Except, I can't remember the last time anyone did that.
He sat across from me and not next to me which was good but bad too. Good because he wasn't RIGHT THERE, but bad because then he was looking right at me the whole time. This is why you don't eat with people who make you nervous. They can watch you the entire time. You always find youself doing idiotic things when this happens, like missing your straw or knocking food off of your plate.
The waiter came over and asked us what we wanted to drink. I think I got iced tea. I don't know what he got because I was still trying to calm my fucking brain down. Is there a lamaze for that? Like a breathing exercise for freaking the fuck out. Oh yeah, hyperventilating. But I think the brown paper bag and head between my knees thing might have freaked him out. So I just mentally told myself to calm to hell down and concentrate on being cool, calm, cool.
So, I picked up my menu and stared at it. I have no idea what it said. Because my brain wasn't thinking about food. I had every intention of ordering whatever the hell the waiter said was on special.
So, Jason... Do you work around here?
He set his menu down and looked at me as though he knew where this was going and was surprised that I was entering so early.
Not far, in San Antonio.
Oh yeah? Where abouts?
Northwest side. I work for a law firm near the Medical Center.
So, your a lawyer then?
Not really. Actually I -
Are you two ready to order?
Fucking waiter. He ordered something and I ordered something and then the waiter left and somehow, His Smoothness managed to turn the conversation around to me. Asking me about my job, my kids, my family. And those of you who know me know that I can talk your damn ear off. I got caught up in the questions, in his points of view, in the conversation and before I knew it the food was gone and it was just he and I there.
And then he said it, something that is causing me to clean out the closets and storage spaces in my brain and find out why it rings such a soft bell in the back of my mind. He said, "like the knights of the round table." No big deal right? But it is. It's something, it's like when you can't remember the name of that one guy or that one movie or the next line in that one song. That's the kind of nagging, pulling effect that one sentence had on me.
But then, I looked at the clock and it was 2:30.
Shit, I have to go. It's 2:30. I stood up and grabbed my purse.
Is it really? That was fast. I should probably get going too. But, I enjoyed talking to you.
Yeah.. me too and thanks for lunch. We started walking towards the door. Except, I still have no idea who you are.
Ahhh, but have I convinced you that I am sane enough to have dinner with?
He had and I laughed.
I guess so.
Ok, so I will call you.

And that was it. The Knights Of The Round Table. Where is that from? Is it even anything or am I losing my god damned mind? I have nothing. No idea who he is or how he found me or anything. Except he is cute and he has a great smile and a great laugh. And I have officially managed to put several complete sentences together in his presence. That's progress baby.

part five

so eloquently put by katehopeeden at 9:40 PM
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Who: katehopeeden
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