First Dates

I went on my last first date in January 1989, and I cried all the way home.

Nine weeks later, we were engaged.

I’ll back up to the “cried all the way home” part since I’m guessing that comes as odd in the grand scheme of a less-than-three-months’ timeframe.

I was twenty-six when I met my husband-to-be at a restaurant/bar. He’d actually taken me by surprise when he asked me out because (1) he interrupted his best friend who was maneuvering to do the same thing, (2) he’d not even said a word to me when we’d casually met the week before, and (3) he was “old” – sixteen years older than me, as it turned out. I had no other date prospects (other than his best friend who, thank heavens, didn’t ask first), so I figured I could handle a night out with “the old guy.”

We agreed over the phone a few days later to meet at a very nice restaurant the following Wednesday. As soon as I arrived, he said, “You were in a dream I had the other night.”

Big. Red. Flag.

My deer-in-headlights look let him know he needed to regroup quickly or things were going to head downhill. “What I mean is, I had a dream, nothing special, but you walked by in the background. That’s never happened to me before. You must have made a good impression on me.”

Okay, that was a good save on his part. We continued on to dinner. Romantic setting, live trees decorated with lots of little white lights, brick floor and walls, fresh flowers and candles, Caesar salad made fresh at our table (a first for me). It was the nicest restaurant I’d ever been to, but here was the kicker: despite our age difference, we talked about everything. Neither of us dominated the conversation; both of us found the other to be intelligent and intriguing.

We talked for four hours. Four hours. FOUR HOURS! Thank heavens the restaurant was open late.

Afterward, he walked me to my car, asked if I’d like to meet for breakfast and go to EPCOT the following Saturday (I said yes), and then he hugged me goodnight. That was it. No kiss…no need for one.

And I cried the whole way home because I was shocked at how much I liked this guy…this middle-aged guy…this guy who was getting out of high school when I was getting out of diapers!

He kissed me quickly on our second date, kissed me good on our third, and told me he wanted to marry me on our fourth.  When we were officially engaged nine weeks after meeting, I knew for sure he was the one. Twenty-three years, two sons, and a few jobs and moves later, he’s still the one. And it all started with a four-hour conversation on our first date.

For the record, he always claims that his “no first date kiss” thing was him being suave.

It worked.

So, how many of you knew on a first date that you’d found “the one”? What were the signs for you? A great kiss? No kiss? Something said or done that took you by surprise? Tell me your story.

Next Week: Blind Dates

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4 Responses to First Dates

  1. What a great story of how you met your hubby. I’ve yet to cry after a first date because it was so awesome, but I have come close to crying after many sucky first dates LOL.

  2. Jami Burkhert

    I wish I can say that I had a memorable “first date” where I knew that he was (pardon the quotes again) “THE ONE”, but I can’t. My first date with my now husband was pretty non-climatic–at least it was for me–I was the one that made the move to hold his hand…I was the one that kissed him because I just had to find out if I still had it after my ex-husband left me…I was pretty much the one that initiated everything. And before you go there…It was several MONTHS before anything else happened. It’s really funny now that I think about it. I loved reading your story, Alison, (hee hee) it is really romantic.

  3. In my dating years way back in the 1960’s, I had been set up with two blind dates. The first one should have permanently cured me of accepting a second blind date. However, my wonderful girlfriend felt sorry for me as I was going through a ‘dry’ spell, sitting in our apartment every weekend for months. So, I accepted her suggestion that I go with her and her boyfriend and a friend of theirs, Frank. They said Frank was handsome and bright, lots of fun. Can you imagine the shock when I opened my door and there stood Frank, the fellow that sat in front of me during high school in a remote rural community. Frank and I had been friends during school, but we were not interested in each other romantically. We had a fun that night on a hay ride and a good laugh. He was my last blind date.

    • Well, I guess your friends didn’t do too badly by picking out Frank. Glad you left the blind-dating scene on a positive note. Thanks for sharing! : )

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