Saturday, July 02, 2005
What is a Date?
I never really was any good at dates.
I think in my entire life, I might well have only have been out on one "official" date, and only because we were kidding around tongue-in-cheek (the term is flirting) about going out on a "date".
I suppose there's guys, and guys. I seem to have made a habit of getting to know someone really well slowly, one thing leads to another, blahblah, lines become hazy, blah blah, and suddenly I'm saddled with a relationship which I have to figure out (fortunately the relative frequency has been low, but unfortunately the duration of error has usually been long...)
So what really is a date? While I was going out with my ex, I don't think we really had any proper dates until we were nearing the end of the relationship, when one evening, sick of her rather dysfunctional family and fun-mates, I asked her out just the two of us after she'd had a disagreement with the family (it was a complicated relationship) and much to my surprise, she agreed (I was toying with the idea of breaking up if she had, like the other 12412 times clung to the family-mates instead and forced me to go out with everyone, one big "happy" family for a happy-on-the-outside miserable-as-sh**-on-the-inside outing)
I actually remember that evening pretty fondly, I remember the furnishing and the setting, and even how she looked. All the other stuff from the rest of the relationship, the intensely intimate stuff... it's all lost in the past to me, a vague scent blown away by the winds of time. Probably makes me sound a right bastard, but that's just the way my mind works.
What exactly is a date? Is it when a couple couples, and gets to first, or second, or maybe even third base? Is it candle-lights and starry eyes and maybe a leetle l'amour, hankie pankee in the panty after?
Is it in the hot and heavy, bodily secretions and sweat, rhythm nation, and maybe some music in the background to mask the moans?
Is it in the evening's foreplay, coquetteish glances, suggestive comments, binding eye contact, subtle twitches of the lips and sets of the heads over a romantic dinner setting?
I don't honestly know.
I do know the moments in my life that I will never forget, that I wished had been dates.
From the simple to the elaborate moments - just being there.
A simple foodcourt, two kids putting their hands palm to palm, and laughing
A not-so-simple country-club, a girl walking shamefaced through a glass door an hour late, lunch and laughter in the wheelhouse for a ridiculous four or five hours till eviction was served
An ugly orange-brick victorian shopping centre with a grand piano on every floor, and a girl walking up with laughter in Her eyes as he looked over the random magazine he had been thumbing through, and smiled
A bumpy bus ride in a too-low bus for the handicapped, sitting by Her side pressed by necessity against her, but just watching Her eyes and listening, and smiling
A quiet walk through the city, lost, but not quite lost, meandering towards the circular quay that made up the city-front, listening to Her talk about her uni days, and the places they went for dinner after exams
Red-hued candle-light, and the way it played in Her eyes and off her face, highlighting the angles that had formed after the baby-fat melted away years later; the cheekbones that came with womanhood... the beauty that had always been on the inside, now apparent on the outside as well. Coffee, jokes, and confessions. And exploding credit cards.
A slightly chilly evening, a very slight fog and a victorian-londonesque streetlamp, and a girl underneath it unwrapping a large cardboard box and squeaking with uncharacteristic girlish delight... Her guard fallen, her face lighting up in delight, the events of the night melting away. He wished that perfect moment could have lasted forever... just seeing Her happy.
A sombre, silent moment sitting outdoors under the sky, side by side on the three or four steps leading up to the uni. On the ground. Just listening to the night, and to Her breathing.
I don't know what a date really is, but I guess in retrospect, a date is only a date...
... if both parties think it's a date.
*****
Or maybe it's just a little fruity thingummagig.
I think in my entire life, I might well have only have been out on one "official" date, and only because we were kidding around tongue-in-cheek (the term is flirting) about going out on a "date".
I suppose there's guys, and guys. I seem to have made a habit of getting to know someone really well slowly, one thing leads to another, blahblah, lines become hazy, blah blah, and suddenly I'm saddled with a relationship which I have to figure out (fortunately the relative frequency has been low, but unfortunately the duration of error has usually been long...)
So what really is a date? While I was going out with my ex, I don't think we really had any proper dates until we were nearing the end of the relationship, when one evening, sick of her rather dysfunctional family and fun-mates, I asked her out just the two of us after she'd had a disagreement with the family (it was a complicated relationship) and much to my surprise, she agreed (I was toying with the idea of breaking up if she had, like the other 12412 times clung to the family-mates instead and forced me to go out with everyone, one big "happy" family for a happy-on-the-outside miserable-as-sh**-on-the-inside outing)
I actually remember that evening pretty fondly, I remember the furnishing and the setting, and even how she looked. All the other stuff from the rest of the relationship, the intensely intimate stuff... it's all lost in the past to me, a vague scent blown away by the winds of time. Probably makes me sound a right bastard, but that's just the way my mind works.
What exactly is a date? Is it when a couple couples, and gets to first, or second, or maybe even third base? Is it candle-lights and starry eyes and maybe a leetle l'amour, hankie pankee in the panty after?
Is it in the hot and heavy, bodily secretions and sweat, rhythm nation, and maybe some music in the background to mask the moans?
Is it in the evening's foreplay, coquetteish glances, suggestive comments, binding eye contact, subtle twitches of the lips and sets of the heads over a romantic dinner setting?
I don't honestly know.
I do know the moments in my life that I will never forget, that I wished had been dates.
From the simple to the elaborate moments - just being there.
A simple foodcourt, two kids putting their hands palm to palm, and laughing
A not-so-simple country-club, a girl walking shamefaced through a glass door an hour late, lunch and laughter in the wheelhouse for a ridiculous four or five hours till eviction was served
An ugly orange-brick victorian shopping centre with a grand piano on every floor, and a girl walking up with laughter in Her eyes as he looked over the random magazine he had been thumbing through, and smiled
A bumpy bus ride in a too-low bus for the handicapped, sitting by Her side pressed by necessity against her, but just watching Her eyes and listening, and smiling
A quiet walk through the city, lost, but not quite lost, meandering towards the circular quay that made up the city-front, listening to Her talk about her uni days, and the places they went for dinner after exams
Red-hued candle-light, and the way it played in Her eyes and off her face, highlighting the angles that had formed after the baby-fat melted away years later; the cheekbones that came with womanhood... the beauty that had always been on the inside, now apparent on the outside as well. Coffee, jokes, and confessions. And exploding credit cards.
A slightly chilly evening, a very slight fog and a victorian-londonesque streetlamp, and a girl underneath it unwrapping a large cardboard box and squeaking with uncharacteristic girlish delight... Her guard fallen, her face lighting up in delight, the events of the night melting away. He wished that perfect moment could have lasted forever... just seeing Her happy.
A sombre, silent moment sitting outdoors under the sky, side by side on the three or four steps leading up to the uni. On the ground. Just listening to the night, and to Her breathing.
I don't know what a date really is, but I guess in retrospect, a date is only a date...
... if both parties think it's a date.
*****
Or maybe it's just a little fruity thingummagig.
