Busboys and Bad Dates?

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Washington, DC is filled with achievers.  For every entrepreneur, there is a corporate player.  For every socialite, there is a social blogger.  In other words, for every interest there is person that is interested.  Given this fact, locating a good networking event is simple, but finding a good date is bit more complex.  It requires more than the exchange of a business card, or the follow-up of a Facebook Friend request.

So, when good dates finally occur, it's like finding a Four Leaf Clover...the participants can't believe their luck...and they don't want the good date to end...BUT...the ending is exactly what they anticipate, for it generally determines how good that particular date actually was.

For example...

If the date concludes with the guy sweetly kissing your forehead...walking you back to your door....but he does NOT ask to come inside...you can bet that he will rush home and count down the minutes when his free minutes kick in and he can call you after 9pm...

On the other hand...

If he begins with a church hug (leaving space for Jesus), closes the gap with a bear squeeze, and slowly begins massaging his fingertips in your fresh hair weave...he'll call you...but probably 30 minutes after he dropped you off...to ask you if it's alright to "come back over and upstairs for coffee."

The elusive first date, and the even more elusive "good ending"...is hard to find, but when it's found...it's like finding the gold-filled pot at end of a rainbow...

Somewhere Near the Waterfront...

I met A Long Walk at his place. Generally, I am not a fan of the "come over my house so we can chill" date, but he had coerced me by promising an abundant supply of fruit roll-ups and bottomless bag of potato chips (both of which are my guilty junk food pleasures).  When I arrived, his smile was just as bright as I remembered and he was holding a great big bag of UTZ Salt N Vinegar...mmmmm....
Ripping the bag open and plopping down on one lone chair at his dining room table, I watched as A Long Walk eyed me, beckoning me to join him on the couch...but...A Long Walk was SOL, because  I know what happens when two, grown, hormone-affected, young people start eating potato chips on comfy couches.  I was perfectly happy with sitting alone with my potato chip bag.

Or, was I?

A Long Walk looked so dang satisfied on that couch, with his long, muscular legs spread out, leaving plenty of room to for me to fit in between....


Meanwhile....at Busboys and Poets on the other side of town....

Flower Child was applying bright ruby red lipstick to her full lips, and preparing to return to the dinner table with Baldy.  Flower Child had met Baldy several years ago while working as a receptionist. Baldy had been the youngest director at the firm, exceptionally brilliant, tirelessly ambitious, and engaged...to a woman with all the characteristics of Betty Crocker and Aunt Jemima combined.

Not one to sweat the competition, Flower Child - who hated anything remotely domestic - began making herself  "available."  If  Baldy needed someone to proof an email, Flower Child would  be "available" to read the message while lightly brushing her breasts across his knuckles on the keyboard.  If Baldy was headed to a meeting, she would be "available" to adjust his necktie - casually running her finger up and down his chest.

For her, it was only logical that she had played a tremendous role in the news that Baldy revealed two weeks before his resignation: he was breaking off his engagement.

Tonight, as she was headed back to the dinner table, in a skin tight leopard-print dress and 5 inch, black leather heels, she knew just what to do make herself "available" one last time...

Near the waterfront....

The Jackson 5 movie was blaring, and I had been coerced out of my seat to dance to "I Want You Back."  The sound was on high, and A Long Walk was doing the moonwalk around me as I giggled moving my hips to the rhythm.  He took my hand twirled me around, hip bumped me, then dipped me low before we both fell on the couch laughing hilariously at how silly we had just looked.

"You're really light on your feet, Bree."

I had to admit, I liked the way he said my name.

I smiled, trying to catch my breath. Then he got up, turned off the television and clicked on Michael Jackson's "You Are Not Alone."

"Can I have this dance?" he said.

At Busboys...

Flower Child was listening intently...nodding, smiling and laughing at appropriate intervals as Baldy talked about his career, meeting appointments, and networking events.  Then, the conversation moved to why his engagement had ended. While he talked about his ex-fiance's need to spend more time, total disregard for his hectic schedule, and her need for more intimacy, Flower Child softly interjected with...

"that bitch" ...
"unbelievable" ...and...
"shame on her"   

When the check came, Flower Child got up and stood behind Baldy, slowly rubbing his head, massaging the sides of his neck and squeezing his shoulders in slow, circular motions.

"You're a good man Baldy,"  her hands slid down to his chest. "You deserve to have a woman who really understands you."

Back on the Waterfront...

A Long Walk's hand moved up and down the small of my back, as we rocked slowly back and forth to the music, methodically, and in tune with the beat.  The streetlights around his place were few and far between, so his apartment was dark except for the lights on his stereo and a lone table lamp.

When the music ended, we settled on the couch as another song began to play.

I rested underneath the crease of his arm and we sat there sharing blueberry fruit roll-up and talking about our funniest memories associated with Michael Jackson songs...then the clock chimed MIDNIGHT...

Knowing my empty apartment held nothing but time and opportunity to remember the broken relationship with my ex. I turned to A Long Walk and said:

"Can I stay over here tonight?"

At Busboys....

Flower Child and Baldy strolled out the restaurant, her hand was resting softly on his forearm and his hand was boldly rubbing her backside.

She smiled up at him as they approached his car.

"I guess this is good bye," she said.

"It doesn't have to be; what are you doing tonight?" he pulled her close pressing her tightly against his body...

Flower Child suddenly felt a strong urge to sip and share a Starbucks Chai Latte...and following him back to his car, she was happy that she had done her kegels and packed a toothbrush.

Near the Watefront...

A Long Walk rose from the couch and pulled me close to him, kissing me lightly on the top of my forehead before reaching for his shoes.

 "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm about to walk you to your car, Bree. I can't trust myself around you, so I'll have to respectfully decline your offer to spend the night."

...
...


Wow!  Just Wow!....

....
....

Two different dates.
....
....
....
Two different endings.
....
....

Flower child was putting her kegel practice to good use, and I was humming "You Are Not Alone" on my drive back to my apartment complex.

Had my date with A Long Walk really been that "good?"

Or, would I be one of those single women in DC who thought she had just experienced a "good date," only to find out that her four-cleaf clover was missing a petal? 

Time could only tell...