Not your typical Sunday night.
I don’t know about you, but I usually spend my Sunday nights preparing for the week. I do a little work, relax, maybe wrap up whatever Netflix disc I have (currently watching: “Weeds“). By 9pm, I’m snuggled up with a novel (currently reading: “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest“) so I can get my beauty sleep before getting up at a quarter to five for my ride to yoga and then on to work. I like taking it easy, it makes me feel ready for another week of my day job.
Well. This past Sunday? I didn’t do any of those things. I didn’t get home til 11pm (waaaaay past my school night bedtime).
I had a date.
A date that started out with my car rolling backwards down the driveway because apparently I didn’t pull the emergency break hard enough when I got out to put some mail in the mailbox. Cue me running around the driver’s door in my cute black heels to slam on the breaks. Please tell me this isn’t my car hinting at me to just stay home…
From there, I got lost.
I thought it was a straight-shot to my destination. It should have been. Instead, I somehow took the right exit but thought it was the wrong one, got stuck in traffic, left traffic to go the wrong way, got hit on at a traffic light (“Hey! Hey! Hey baby! How’d you get so beautiful?” Wow, seriously? So not the time…), went the wrong way again, finally got going the right way, but then my exit ramp was closed… Have we discussed my excellent sense of direction yet?
Thus, I arrived at my date 25 minutes late and in desperate need of vodka.
My date was waiting for me at the bar, and the bartender had a perfect pour. I knew the night was looking up.
We ended up chatting for so long in the bar, the hostess had to remind us our table was ready. The conversation flowed, as did the malbec. We clearly had plenty in common, and plenty to talk about.
When the check came, I didn’t even have a chance to argue before it was snatched up, glanced at, and returned with plastic to the waiter.
I was walked to my car… and there were messages waiting for me by the time I got home from work the next day. Messages regarding the pleasure of my company, and inquiring when it could be experienced again.
No games, no pretense. Easy peasy pumpkin pie.
Who has a date like that any more, anyway?
Well. Here’s a secret: It wasn’t a typical date…
There were three of us at the table… without any of us being the third wheel.
Yes… I was on a date with a couple.
Never done that before.
I’ll admit it. I was nervous. Naturally, I suppose. But, for the most part, that dissipated quickly. The thing was though, every so often, a lil voice in the back of my head (way way back there) would pipe up and (faintly) cry out “….oh em gee… we’re on a date with a couple! Ahhhh! I feel weeeiiiiiirrrdddd!”
I may have mentioned this before, but I think you’re probably always going to be a bit awkward when you try new things. Especially as they pertain to new sexual experiences. Because sexual experiences and intimate relationships can be downright awkward, even when they’re not new. There might not be an amount of prepping that can get you ready for this new thing you’re trying. Because it’s new.
Case in point. I didn’t really expect to be all “….oh em gee….!” in the back of my head. But I was. The vodka and wine helped me ignore it.
The other point of this? Well. Simply that it happens. People go on dates with couples.
See… I used to be of the open relationships don’t work mentality. I’ve long since recanted.
And Sunday night? I sat across from the evidence. A happy couple, no weird behavior or hang-ups or wanting to meet in sketchy locations or one of them clearly uncomfortable/too comfortable. They were perfectly normal. Educated, good jobs (they certainly occupy a higher tax bracket than mine), friendly, well-spoken, interesting… not weird or kooky or strange. Or outwardly slutty, even. And I like outwardly slutty.
And comfortable. Perfectly at ease with the threesome date. Not acting like this was scandalous but that it was normal. Part of the reason I could ignore my own little voice I didn’t know I had was that they were so relaxed.
What will come of this? I am not sure. I haven’t made a decision on this particular couple (it’s taking me a bit longer than I anticipated to process this – see what I mean?)… but, somehow or another, I have several potential offers on the table at present. When it rains…
And, of course, I’m happy to fantasize about it in the meantime…