One of my good friends recently went on, what would go down in history as the best first date ever.
They met up at the distillery district (she was late but looked really cute).
It was one of those dates that was easy to get out of at one hour intervals - walk around a bit - still staying? coffee for an hour or so - do you want to go home yet? walk around some more - shall we do dinner?
So they ended up at a pub (where else would you go in the distillery district) with the "big platter" (or whatever they call it these days) with all sorts of messy things that should never be eaten on a first date. Quesedillas, onion rings, chicken wings, fries, the list goes on...
At this point the date was about 5 hours in, she thought she really liked him but wasn't sure yet...and right in the middle of dropping a messy, sauce coated wing all over herself, he leaned over and kissed her, right there in the restaurant. He said he couldn't wait any longer.
I'm not a big believer in love anymore, but it seems to still be out there, or at least some tiny slice of something that feels strangely like love. And to those people who can deal with starting over and trying to trust someone new - good for them! I'm not there yet...but maybe one of these days. :)
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