I learned very quickly that Nicholas didn’t do anything half way.  We had a quick bite together one night after I clocked out at the café, but our real first date was a serious outing.  Soon after I returned from Illinois, he called with plans for us on a Saturday night.  I took the night off of work, agonized about my outfit, and anxiously waited for him to pick me up.

We went to Café Tu-Tu Tango for dinner, a tapas restaurant in Atlanta that was housed in an art gallery.  It was a whimsical restaurant with belly dancers, magicians and art collaging every wall.  I’d never been to a restaurant like this before and it was a serious step up from my last Waffle House date.  I was enamored by the ambience and remember feeling like I’d stepped out of my teacher life for an incredible moment that I hoped to hang on to as long as possible.  We ordered some tapas and cocktails, and although I typically hate eating in front of people, it wasn’t my nerves that kept me from eating much. We were so lost in conversation, that for the first time in my entire life, I cared more about what he would say next than the stuffed mushrooms in front of me.

My favorite memory of dinner was getting up to use the restroom–he grabbed my hand as I left the table, and as cliché as it sounds, time froze for a moment.  I remember the look in his eyes…I scurried to the restroom, stared in the mirror and told my reflection that this was it. I can’t explain the moment beyond saying that I think I have a strong intuition, and knew that in spite of the fact that I didn’t know his last name, I was going to end up with this beautiful stranger forever.

After a cool card trick by a magician and perusing some really eclectic art, we left a decent amount of food on the table in order to get on with the night.  Our next stop was Stomp, a Broadway show that I had of course never heard anything about, but wanted to pretend and play it cool.  In spite of a brief semester in Europe, I had little other exposure to the world of arts and had never been to a performance like this before. It was incredible, and was even more exciting and interesting sitting next to said stranger who we’ve now established I knew was going to be my person.  I was so nervous I was sweating, and praying he didn’t notice.

After the show, it was late, and I remember thinking that we should call it a night…I wanted to stop while we were ahead.  Nicholas had other ideas.  He wanted to go dancing, and said so when we got back in his car; I panicked.  I’m a terrible dancer.  I’m the white girl who only ever learned to line dance and am so bad that people either turn and walk away or come over and try to teach me something.  This was a moment I feared. He’s going to find out that I’m just a simple country girl with no idea about the city, no suave, no moves.

We ended up at Club 1150, a martini bar in downtown Atlanta.  My nerves evaporated when we walked in and started dancing.  I realized that this wasn’t about pretention and showing off, it was about an excuse to spend more time together, and I welcomed the idea.  I sacrificed much needed sleep for a night that was the beginning of my forever.

PS- As the anal-retentive, independent girl that I had become, I estimated the amount of our date and left a check in the dash.  Even thought I really couldn’t afford it, I wanted to feel like I could hold my own. But that’s another story, too.