Go Figure

It went very well, despite the fact that, with the disparity of our ages, sometimes I felt like this.

It was disgustingly humid (as it was with Nicholas, actually - maybe I should only date when it feels like Summer in the Amazon) but didn't rain while we took a long walk. Every five minutes I surreptitiously mopped my face with a tissue. So hard to uphold first-date vanity when your face looks like a slice of greasy pizza.

The night turned into an interview with John (not his real name. well, actually it is...) wherein I found out way too much. He's just on that borderline of "what the hell am I doing" and "sweet kid, he just needs a break". I have consciously decided to choose the latter. For now. But he's packed a lot of living into 21 years. Yes, 21. Did I mention, 21?

ANYWAY, I didn't want to use the old, "God, it's so humid, we should go to my place, where it's air conditioned" line. Well -- I wanted to use it, but thought it was bad form. Plus, he seemed to like walking and the rain held off. Every romantic little coffee shop we passed was either closed for the night or closed permanently. And I refused to give my money to Starfucks.

Ultimately, we found a little place in the corner of a hotel dessert & java joint and ducked in. Not bad, actually. Some candles. A little classical music. Go figure. Neither of us being coffee drinkers, I popped for buying us each a bottle of Naked Juice and we found a table in the back. Then the Biography Channel came on and I learned about his father who disowned him and his sister with two babies from different papis, his nervous breakdown (loosely labelled - I hope), his Mother who was dating an 18 year old and pregnant with his baby. Need I go on? Well, how could I fault the Mother, when I was robbing the cradle as well. But at least my cradle didn't have a newborn in it. Surprisingly, I didn't feel like this at all.

For the love of God, don't judge me!!!

ANYWAY, just as we finished the last slurp of juice it started raining. Good Scout I am, I had brought an umbrella big enough for two.

"I love the rain!" he declared. "So, you have air conditioning?" We headed to my place. Honest to God, my intentions were good: a little smooch, a little over-the-clothes action, and that was it. But don't we always say that? There was an awkward minute of silence. I felt like Miss Jane from The Beverly Hillbillies. I told you it had been a long time. But once our eyes met (cue the orchestra) we were off to the races. He got on top of me (we were both sitting, so he was on my lap facing me) and hot damn if he wasn't the best kisser ever. It was an "art," I tell you. I knew then that I was in trouble. Big trouble. Big, swelling, tumescent trouble.