The Perfect Date

Imagine if you will.

The desire is known. But before the pounce, there is a courtship.

You can call me old-fashioned.

He arrives at 8pm. The car is dark. The seats are leather.

“Would you like some heat?” he asks.

I nod with a smile, and a hum from my throat.

Words aren’t known.

We’re contemplating each other.

Energy. Intuition.

Timeless.

We arrive. The restaurant is grand.

I picture Don Francesco’s. The waiters with style. The service of a palace. White linens. Elegance and perfection all in one.

The food is divine. We taste it with our eyes.

Hours pass. We talk. We relax.

The night unfolds outside. A moon in the sky. The stars bright.

Dessert comes. Some coffee.

Later, a visit to the lady’s room. Coats back on.

He puts on mine. Takes care of the bill.

The car is called.

He opens my door.

We drive. Up to a scenic viewpoint.

Laughter. Deep breaths.

The night gets old.

I wait after the car is parked. He opens my door and holds out his hand.

Gently he guides me to my front door.

I unlock the door. Our eyes lock.

A warm embrace.

It’s goodbye for now.

As my back turns a smile appears.

It was the perfect date.

If only in my mind.