Big Date, Big Finish
10-15-05, 9:35 AM

From the day before preparations were in place for just in case for a mishap. Having visited the doctor I�ve learned, in spite of my running and careful diet with exception of the stress binging on a late night White Castle and a Hot Italian Beef sandwich with cheese fries, my blood pressure increased since the last visit. The kicker: I�m on medication to control it.

�Well, perhaps we shouldn�t have talk about your father first because your b.p. is not good.�
�What is it.�
�150 over 100.�
�Wow! I�ve only seen higher once before,� recalling my panic attack from five years earlier that was brought on by stress. This week has been stressful which produced a nice, big old, and timely cold sore just below my lower lip that I�ve practicing first aid on all week in hopes it would vanish by the big date. �I just hope my father understands the decision and recalls that he faced the same dilemma when he had to place my grandmother, his mother, into a nursing home.�
�Your mother said they�ve talked about it and he has an idea what is coming.�
�Yes, but it is my dad. He�s suspicious already and I don�t believe he understands his condition. I was hoping he wouldn�t be coherent when this day comes.�

My Doctor�s 3:45 doctor�s appointment ended at 4:15 which gave me enough time for a two mile run before having to dress the �big date� at the theatre to see Brom Stoker�s �Dracula�. Arriving at home, I was just too tired and decided a quick nap would revive me. Son of bitch if I didn�t oversleep! I awoke at 5:57 and moved like the wind to shower and drive to her house. Recall, she was the woman who called asking if I standing her up because I was fifteen minutes late. Planning ahead this time, my arrival time was suggested between 6:30 and 6:45. My wheels touched her curb at 6:46 as I looked to the right to see her black and white Jack Russel Terrier intermittently leaping three feet in the air, spread legged and tail wagging wildly.

I, in my black suite and orangish brown shirt and matching tie for the festive time of the year and event, was greeted by my date who looked nothing like a Vampire as promised. I was disappointed after all her hype. Earlier in the day, I sent an email �My suspicion is: there is much anticipation, excitement and preparation for this date.� The note was in reference to me but could apply to her. After greeted me with a hug and peck on the cheek, she explained that the dress, in fact, was purchased last night because the other one became too big, nonetheless she looked incredible in a little black coctail dress and wrap.

Over a glass of wine in the theatre�s bar, we found a nook in the corner and broke into a conversation to find our familiar ground where laughter becomes the mainstay of topics. A demanding voice booms out of loud speaker, �Patrons! You have 10 minutes to curtain! Enter the theatre, now!� Courtesy wasn�t this man�s forte. Probably, a jittery stage hand was given the duty for the night. We continue talking for another five more minutes. �Patrons! Five minute only! You must enter the theatre. Now!� All around us people laughed at this commanding and demanding voice as we rose in unison and shuffled with touch of drunkeness to our seats.

When I purchased the tickets on the net, I wondered how the play was going to be pulled-off because the stage was set below and surrounded by the seats arranged in an octagon. The perspective made the play a bit more interesting because the actors did not look across the audience but rather into the first three or four rows with the remaining ten to fifteen rows of seats above. The props were no higher than the height of hand rail, otherwise the first two rows would be obscured. With the stage only being fifty by seventy feet in dimension, stages would be rarely changed and the power of convincing the audience would solely be by the actors� performance. Amazingly, the minimal stage suspended your disbelief by crafty lighting and special effects.

I won�t critique the acting but my observations were mainly about the audience. I tend to get distracted by seeing how others react. First, people no longer put on their finer clothes to attend the theatre. Casual clothes, even a sweat suit, was spotted. Nerve racking and distracting to the actors must have been the mid-twenties woman in the first row with plastic grocery store bag in her lap and her holding her boyfriend�s sitting to her right. By the end of the night, I was dying to find out what was in the bag and why would she carry it to the show? Probably more distracting to the actors was the three hundred and sixty degrees of patrons coughing, sneezing and adjusting themselves in their seats. At one point, I heard a handheld video game and cell phone ring in vibrator mode. Call in Homeland Security or an airport security personnel to rid people of devices and bad taste. My snob moment has now passed.

Next stop, sushi! Now she claimed to have eat sushi but when we sat at the bar, she didn�t know what to order or do. �You lied to me! You said to have loved sushi!� I jokingly accused her. Purchasing grocery store sushi is not the same as a Sushi Bar and cannot be justified as sushi. You only buy grocery store sushi when you�re sick or don�t have a date on weekend night and are stuck at home.

We sat at the bar and I ordered for us by not venturing into something too erotic because I�d like for her not to be scared off from a bad first experience. When the plates began to arrive, I began to drool. She, on the other hand, then announced, �I never had raw fish.�
�What? I thought you had store bought sushi?�
�It was like this,� as she pointed to the California roll and Spicey Tuna Roll. After explaining, how and what to do to eat sushi, she than adds, �Well, I don�t think I can get all of it into my mouth at once.� as she pointed the perfectly pink salmon resting on the rice. Luckily, her wine kicked in and after the first bite, all hesitations vanished.

Two seats down on her right, a somewhat drunk guy arrived who obviously knew the Chef, Mr. Kim, and began to order in a boisterous booming voice. While I was speaking to her, I could see him surveying her body and staring at my date throughout the night. Finally, he leaned over and touched her on the shoulder, �Are you K? Did you work at XXXX?� I�m thinking it was one of her past mental patients.

�Yes.�
�I�m Doctor X! My don�t you look beautiful and the gentleman to be so lucky.� He is hitting on her but she deflects it. Later on with his continued staring I overheard him ordering additional items, one of which was quail eggs served in a shot gloss that he purchased us. Toasting, he once again referred to �her beauty and charm� and reluctantly added, �...the gentleman is to be so lucky...� Purchasing quail eggs shots and toast, he mistakenly believed gave him permission to intrude upon us. He let it be overtly known to my date that he was there every Friday and Saturday night at 10 p.m. if she would want to see him and try exotic sushi. The guy later purchased what looked like a dessert but was sea urchin and quail eggs served in a martini glass � visually delicious but an acquired taste. The pompous ass continued with letting her know of her availability.

A short drive to her place, we discussed the guy in sushi bar and I let her know it didn�t bother me because it didn�t. People�s perceived social status of themselves has no effect upon me. Yes, so what he is a doctor but by his actions he also is an ass.

When exiting the car, my date asked if I would like to come in. Well, we all know what that means!

�No, I think I�m going to go home.� She looked stunned as to what would have ended a perfect night. �So far the night has been great and I don�t want to ruin it.� Besides, I�m a bit self-conscious of the minimal scab below my lip that looks like a razor cut. In addition, two can play the dating game. You may recall she rebuffed my advances a couple weeks back. I continued speaking while her puzzlement seemed to express, �Did he just reject me?�

�If I go in, I then probably won�t see you until Monday or even next week.� A pattern was forming: limited foreplay and �no play� followed by a week without seeing her. Let her think about this over night. �I would like to see you tomorrow though, if you�re available.� I didn�t want to be presumptuous that she didn�t have plans on a Saturday night.

�So, you want to see me some more?�
�Yes, of course. I'd like to see you more often than once a week.�
�You�re not just saying this. You are going to call. Aren't you?"
�Yes.� I saw the gears turning her head wondering if I'm making my escape from her. With that a long kiss goodnight while I deeply inhaled her perfume.

Yesterday - Tomorrow