Blogger: Frank's Wild Years - Post a Comment

The date went exceedingly well. I didn't fuck anything up, and there's evidence that I even did a couple of things right! It has long been my impression that women do like a man who knows how to order a great meal. I took the dark haired beauty to Just a Taste where we had a few glasses of nice white wine and an endless succession of small expensive plates of clams, braised greens, salads, arctic char, brussels sprouts with walnuts, quail, etc. We walked around and had coffee and espresso brownies. She smoked a cigarette and I a cigar. We walked around some more. It was great. I made sure to notice what she was wearing. I've always felt that that is important. And I mean noticing beyond the standard, "You look hot in that." It was really easy in this case because my date looked fucking gorgeous in faded jeans with an unbuttoned white blouse and a tightly fitted brown plaid blazer. How can I explain the effect of that loosely unbuttoned white blouse (and the contents within) underneath the tight jacket? Sensual. And classy. Dizzying. Her shoes were simple canvas wedges, a nice touch, really. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and kept grinning madly. "What's so funny," she asked through her own goofy smile. "Nothing's funny," I said. "You just look very beautiful and I am taking it all in, trying to remember all the different aspects which, combined, make me feel like a happy smiling fool." But seriously, that's what I should have said! I can't remember what I actually said, but it was probably something stupid like, "You look hot in those clothes." Anyway, I must have done okay, because we're going out tomorrow for breakfast. My friend Gene is pissed, because he thinks I am ignoring him which I sure as shit am. Got to go...