The Best First Date--Ever
Heir to Blair blogger shares the date story she'll never forget as part of the Care.com Interview Series
Beth Anne is a born and bred Southern Belle. The nationally syndicated writer adores good books, rich coffee, to-do lists, and being romanced by her husband of five years. Balancing motherhood and a career, she spends days chasing her toddler on the playground in high heels and attending business meetings with a Matchbox car in her briefcase. She celebrates the challenges of motherhood and the joy of life over at her award-winning blog, The Heir to Blair.
I stood outside my dorm, nervously adjusting the khaki blazer I wore over an aqua blue t-shirt. It was before iPhones, back when AIM was the coolest way to communicate, and the boy I called my best friend asked me to go out to dinner.
My heart fluttered; he was cute with a country boy charm and someone I trusted with my entire being. After years of heartbreak with my first boyfriend, I was terrified to begin again. I turned the rumble of an engine; he sat in his black Ford pickup, his trademark baseball cap covering up a mop of curls. I grinned.
We drove through the fading daylight to O'Charleys, a typical chain restaurant with fake memorabilia on the walls and yeast buns worth dying over. The college town restaurant was packed for a Saturday night, so we grabbed a high table at a bar and ordered beers. This was before either of our tastes veered towards microbreweries, so I am pretty sure we both ordered Budweiser and chicken fingers.
I don't remember what we talked about. I remember that he barely ate any dinner and I found out years later it was from nerves. I remember the roar of the game on the television behind us, but we paid no attention to it. After three years of class projects and late-night instant messaging, I was on a date with a boy I only ever considered a friend.
We drove around that night, stopping into a Blockbuster Video and grabbing a movie we didn't watch. Instead, we sat facing each other on the bed in my dorm room, laughing and splitting the pint of ice cream I kept hidden from my roommate in our mini-fridge.
He did not kiss me that night--or for several more weeks, despite lunches and a movie date and a walk around campus. But when that kiss came, it sent tingles straight down to my toes.
It's the runner-up as the Best Kiss in History, only behind the one we shared at the altar two years later.
Get more date night stories in the Care.com Interview Series: The Best Date I've Ever Had »
Images used with permission from Beth Anne Ballance.
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