Page 47 of Hot Four Teacher
“Damn. That's always tough.”
Realizing I probably shouldn’t talk about my ex on a first date, I pivot. “How was your week?”
“Exhausting. I took on a project that I probably shouldn’t have. But I’m just happy it’s the weekend, and I don't have to think about it.”
He sips his whiskey and says, “I know I already told you, but you look gorgeous tonight.”
I feel my cheeks blushing. “Thank you.”
“So, Michelle, tell me something interesting about yourself.”
I think for a moment to try to come up with something interesting.
Anythinginteresting.
Without much input from my brain, my mouth blurts, “I was born with six toes on one foot.”
What?!
He looks stunned. “Really?”
“No, that’s a lie,” I exhale, and we both start laughing.
“That was a good one,” he says. “I was debating whether or not I wanted to see it.”
When our laughter quiets, I say, “Look, Dane, I’m going to be honest here. I don’t have some super interesting or glamorous life. I work as a dental hygienist. I got pregnant young, and my life has always revolved around my daughter. I’ve been trying out new hobbies, but I hate just about all of them. I’m the type who normally wants to stay in on a Friday night rather than go out. Half of the time, I’m a mess. My house isn’t always clean, and I’m only a decent cook. Sometimes, I get stuck in my own head–so much so that the other day, in the shower, I only shaved one of my legs, and I didn’t notice for hours. And when Ididnotice, Ididn’t care enough to go back and shave the other one. I don’t have many friends, but I do have four extremely intrusive siblings and equally intrusive parents. I have an unhealthy obsession with peanut butter. And I haven’t dated in over a decade because the ones I used to date ruined the idea for me. Relationships were too much work only to be rewarded with crappy sex. And apparently, wine makes me super chatty.” I say the last words while holding up my glass.
I wait for him to say something. I didn’t quite mean to word vomit on him like that, but I figure we better get some of this out of the way now.
At this moment, though, I’m regretting all of it.
He taps his thumb on the edge of his glass as he says, “Wow.”
Well, this was fun while it lasted.
I’m debating reaching into my purse and dialing Leah’s number to have an easy out, but before I get the chance, Dane starts talking again.
“Okay, first off, I think it’s awesome that you have a big family. I only have one sister, but she also is a huge pain in the ass, so I understand. I don’t care if your legs are shaved–or anything else for that matter. I don’t care if your house is a mess or if you're not a Michelin star chef. I don’t need a mother.”
He leans forward, setting his elbows on the table. “And as far as the dating stuff, I’m sorry that you’ve had a slew of shitty experiences. I hope to break that streak.”
“So, none of what I just said bothers you?” I ask a little stunned.
He shrugs his shoulders while raising his glass to his lips. “Why would it? Everyone’s gotstuff,Michelle. And in all reality, none of that stuff matters too much…not when you really like the person.”
Man, he’s smooth. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
“What’s yourstuff?”I ask.
He thinks for a moment while nursing his whiskey. “Well, I was active military for a while…the Marines. Because of that, I spent quite a bit of time in therapy trying to cope with the things I saw and did. I got married younger than I should have. We tried to make it work as long as we could, but the writing was on the wall a long time before we ended it. I have a good relationship with my sister and a complicated one with my dad. I have a Type A personality and can be a little anal at times. Like you, I get in my own head quite a bit, but I’m trying to do better. See? I’m not perfect. I’ve got stuff, too.”
“I guess so,” I say, not thinking any of that sounds so bad.
Our conversation is interrupted when the waitress drops off our food. We continue on with the pleasant conversation. The more Dane talks, the more I like him. Never have I had a first date that seemed so easy and genuine.
Just when we’re finishing our dinner…just when I’ve let my guard down, it finally happens.
I drop a heaping forkful of chicken parm covered in red sauce right down the middle of my white sweater.
