I had a date last night. I have to say, I was really impressed by the guy. He did everything just right. He asked me in person. He gave me plenty of warning (asked on Sunday for a date on Wednesday). He emailed me the day before to confirm and tell me how much he was looking forward to it. He made two different plans and asked me whether I would prefer a low-key intimate setting or a night out, big-date setting. He picked me up. He planned the perfect evening (brought a bottle of wine and took me to a little Italian cafe where we sipped our wine and shared a brick-oven-baked pizza). He took me to another spot for coffee after dinner. He drove me home. He kissed me goodnight. He emailed me today to tell me how much he enjoyed the evening and to say he thinks we should go out again soon.
Oh, and conversation was great as well. In fact, considering the topics we covered, you'd think things were pretty serious between us. We talked about marriage and children (three kids was the consensus). We agreed on the type of honeymoon we want (quiet, laid back, secluded). We discussed our expectations on the frequency of...ahem..."intimacy" in a marriage. I'm not sure we're in agreement on this one as he seemed to think 3-4 times a day wasn't unreasonable. We discovered that he prefers to sleep on the right side of the bed and I prefer the left. And we talked about the different things we'd like to register for (me: a food processor, him: a leaf blower).
Too bad he's a guy I've known for years and it's a completely platonic relationship and this was just another friend-date. One day...one day...it'll be a "real" date. And I won't be blogging about it.