A Tall Bourbon, Please. Neat.

I had quite the adventure yesterday, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

I met up with Mr. Tall (the guy I had met online at the Upright Citizens Brigade last week) at the Sofia Wine Bar on 50th and 2nd ave. It was a small, dimly lit place, lit by the candles on the tables and sporting a hefty choice of wines to choose from, along with a couple of appetizers to nibble whilst sipping and squinting at your partner across the table. I was fully anticipating the date to go as any online date has gone: just a lot of blah, blah, blah’s back and forth, some failed attempts at flirtation and then a quick excuse as to why I need to head home. Not so with Mr. Tall.
He was very curious about me. I had had a very busy day and chattered away about it. We talked about alcohol, and wine and food and family and jobs. I drank my Pinot Grigio rather quickly and promptly began to drop my fork on the floor and knock over a cup of water. It wasn’t from nerves so much as exhaustion and tipsiness. What did I have to lose from this guy, though? I wasn’t sitting at the table in Sofia for a chance at scoring a homerun that night, and, frankly I am feeling as though my life is moving in the direction I want it to so well, that a boyfriend is not really in my sights either. No pressure.
We finished our appetizers and then made our way over to P.J. Clarke’s which is an old fashioned bar on 2nd ave. The place was bustling with business suites and heels. I had the keen realization that I was most definitely the youngest person in the joint. I told Mr. Tall I wanted a bourbon, a Glenlivet (which is actually a Scotch, I’ve now realized!), neat, please. We sipped our shots by the window and then fell into one of the most engaging conversations I have had in a while.
First off: I was actually looking up at him. And, at P.J.’s there was light to see him by! I could actually read his facial expressions. What a concept! We left the drab “whuddo you doo?” questions behind very rapidly and moved on to crazy, gesticulating, passion driven whoops of “You do that? I DO THAT TOO!” Then the “Oh my god, YES! I feel the same way!” followed by a simultaneous: “ugh, I hate that. *laughter*”
At one point the bar got very crowded. There were people moving past us and shifting us around. Tall put his arms around my waist and pulled me close to avoid being bumped in to. I looked up at him and could only smile. “Here,” he said. “Let me be in the way.” As he caught my arm and shifted me toward the window, away from all the movement by the bar. I left my hand in his for the remainder of the night.
He walked me back to the subway station, my arm resting on his. I felt like I was being treated like quite the lady. He’s a dancer, and would occasionally lead me as if we were in a waltz: “Let’s cross here” and I would effortlessly follow. Who knew crossing the street could be so choreographed? I felt my stomach tie in a knot at the thought of what our parting should consist of. There is a strange dilemma that occurs on a date: Do I kiss them good bye? Do I hug? Do I wave? What do I say? “See ya’ soon, buddy?” or “Hey, Let me call you…” or “No, thanks. Your place sounds nice, but I really do need to go home” Mr. Tall blithely chatted about New York History and how he liked to explore old houses. I nodded and smiled and let him lead me in the dance down 2nd avenue, wondering what our parting would be.
At the entrance to the train he was suddenly very close to me. “Goodbye, Natalie.” He said. “I would really like to do this again, Tall.” I blurted. Yes. I would. “Great. Me too.” He answered. I kissed him very quickly, then pulled back to see his reaction. He smiled. “Good night.” He chuckled. And traced his finger down my face. Tall kissed me on the forehead before turning to walk away. “See you soon!” He murmured.
I floated down the staircase and into the subway station. I felt flush with excitement. Holy cow. See you soon, indeed.

October 6, 2011 at 4:00 pm by Natalie Allen