Widdershins:

(sometimes withershins, widershins or widderschynnes) means to take a course opposite that of the sun, going counterclock-wise, lefthandwise, or to circle an object, by always keeping it on the left. It also means "in a direction opposite to the usual," which is how I choose to take it in using it as the title of this blog. We're all in the same world finding our own way.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

In Which Danny Goes on a Date

I feel like I rarely post about my personal life in too much detail here, probably because the majority of people reading this are friends who receive regular updates in person and thus it seems redundant and detractive to the semi-academic, semi-social justice, poetic vibe/theme that has permeated this blog.

That said, I went on a date this past weekend. I can't remember the last time I've been on a “date” that had the intention of being a date and wasn't some kind of confusing blend of potential interest and existing friendship. I went on a date with someone I barely know, with the intention of getting to know him better to see if we have any kind of chemistry or if maybe we should abort mission and head for the safety of newly minted friendship. For now, I'll call the gentleman in question Glitter.

I brought him flowers.
“Would you tell me, please,” said Alice, a little timidly, “why are you painting those roses?” -Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland 
 I've never gotten someone flowers like this. Well, unless you count the time over the summer where I got a calla lilies at the Pike Place Market and then forgot them when I stayed the night at my friend Joe's and didn't remember them until I was an hour away on public transportation and told him to give them to his mom.

They were white roses. Or rather they were white roses when I purchased them. I took them home and painted the roses red. I never asked if he understood the literary nod to Lewis Carroll, but the playing card (Ace of Hearts, naturally) with the quote probably made it painfully obvious. Assuming there are future dates and my budget allows for it, I'm toying with the idea of continuing to give Glitter literary flowers.
Perhaps as a friend of Dorothy, I can acquire some poppies. And morbid though it may be, perhaps I can rustle up a small bouquet of the petals Ophelia names in her madness before drowning. A daffodil and a mirror might be too strong a message of Narcissus.

On second thought, maybe more flowers are a bad idea if they're all harbingers of doom and death in literature.

Even as I was painting these roses, I felt really insecure. I'm not sure how many people I texted for reassurance that this was a good idea, but I really needed people to say to me “Danny, you're being ridiculous. Stop thinking and just go with it.”

The afternoon was entirely too long.

Part of our date was going to the Vagina Memoirs, a monologue performance process on campus that gives women opportunity to speak truth to power and break silence. I should have seen it coming when Glitter sat down next to me in line and asked if the flowers were for the cast member and mutual friend who sort of introduced us.

Now, the obvious answer would have been to immediately say no, these are actually for you. But I froze. I was a little embarrassed to not have anticipated that any and every other bouquet of flowers in the concert hall that night was going to a Vagina Memoirs cast member.
So I waited a painful 15 minutes in line letting him believe the flowers were for someone else before I half-whispered (lines are loud) in his ear and told him that if he wanted to give flowers to our friend, he now had some since the roses were for him.

He held on to them for the entire first act before putting them under his seat during intermission. Part of me wanted to trade the flowers for my hand every time I caught sight of this out of the corner of my eye.

The Date

I'm not sure if I should talk about the Memoirs themselves as part of the date considering Glitter and I both would have been there regardless. So I'll just say that they were powerful and moving and I'm so proud of all the women who spoke up on that stage.

Afterward we waited around with friends for a bit and Glitter looked so tired. I almost wanted to tell him to cancel our date in favor of going home to sleep and get better. Almost. Our friends, bless their fiery hearts, banished us from the group and any planning for after parties, telling us to get out and enjoy our date.

He woke up a bit walking through the wet snow/hail to his car, amazed at the fickle weather I'm willing to put up with traversing to, from, and through campus.

We made a pit stop at his place to pick up his wallet before heading downtown. Our destination: The Temple Bar, a smaller, upscale bar that plays at a kind of hipster pretentiousness while somehow managing to feel authentically intimate. I fell in love from the moment we walked through the door.

A friend had suggested it to me the week prior and it seemed a decent location for a first date. Once the live music stopped and a few of the larger tables left, we were able to converse over our port and gouda panino and dessert without having to repeat everything five times.

Looking back, it was probably a bad idea to share sips of our wine and bites of dessert to compare. Somewhere in the stress of school, Glitter had caught cold and had been coughing a storm all night. I'm lucky so far that my immune system seems to be resisting whatever black lung I may have been exposed to with little to no struggle to the contrary.

After, he drove me home and we hugged in the car before I ran up to my apartment.
Reflections

I'm still a little giddy. This wasn't some kind of epic adventure, and by no means are Glitter and I in love and headed toward some long-term romance, but it was a good first date as far as I'm concerned. I'm charmed by this cute guy and I want to continue getting to know him.

I'm a little disappointed that he was sick and we didn't get to hang out longer, but hopefully that's what a second (and maybe third or beyond) date will be for.

I'm thankful that despite being sick he was somehow still down to take time out of what I'm sure is a busy schedule (i.e. time that could be spent in bed getting better) to go out with me. In past attempts at dating I feel like I've been canceled on and rescheduled so often that some days I forget that a time commitment is something that people can stick to. It was a refreshing change.

I'm in debt to all the friends who encouraged me to turn off that inner monologue and just have fun in the moment.

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