Pick Up Line

After many years of marriage my husband still really likes to date me. He’ll often communicate with me during the week saying he’d like to stop somewhere cozy on the way home from airport. When the week is over I’ll often arrive to pick him up in my jeans and patagonia. We will discuss the concept of having a date and it usually goes something like this:

Mayor:      So where would you like to stop?
Roberto:   We could go to California Pizza Kitchen. Do you think there will be a wait?
Mayor:      Probably. We could pick up a carry out.
Roberto:   I’m really tired. Something light would do.
Mayor:      I’m really not that hungry either. We could just have a sandwich at home.
Roberto:   Yeah, Big Black will want to go for a walk.

Truth be told we are both to worn out from the week to follow through on the plan. Home we go to try and revive ourselves for the following week. And Big Black is a lot of dog to walk.

It was a recent Saturday evening and I was making an airport run to retrieve my husband. I decided to get a bit tarted up for the usually
blase chore that I am often “on call” for. You see it had been a week of particularly positive meetings after a year of complications
so I thought something special was in order. We had also had a few days of warmer weather, a spring tease so I thought it was time to put on something other than
a turtleneck sweater.

I perused my closet for something sassy to wear thinking, “Do I really want to do this? It has been a long day and these girls are on my last nerve.”
The ladies were a little suspicious when I agreed with their early dinner plans to order pizza without them even having to sell me on the idea.
Yes, I am going to follow through on this! I pulled out my very sultry Trina Turk dress. An hour later I had straightened my hair, sprayed on some Trish McEvoy #9, moisturized and put on my make up. I slipped on the dress, the heels and thought, “oh, this feels nice”. I’m going to pick up my prince charming and I’m looking pretty fine.

I pulled out of the garage into the dark to proceed to the airport.... in the pouring rain with the wind howling at about 40 miles per hour. Five minutes later I zipped down the ramp onto the freeway into a thick blanket of fog. Despite the inclement weather I made it to the airport, parked in the cell phone lot and pulled out my sudoku puzzle. Prince Charming had checked his bag since he was bringing back a couple extra lap tops so I worked 2 puzzles while waiting.

My mind wandered because I tend to get bored easily. I know we will have to wait in the bar due to it being a Saturday night. Maybe when we get to the restaurant I’ll pretend like I don’t know him and only speak French... finally he called, he was waiting in the usual spot. I had wanted to pull up early to stand by the car, posing all vampy like in my trench coat and high heels. Keep in mind my heels could never compare to the famous Stiletto Mom’s Christian Louboutin’s stilettos, but they are high heels just the same.

I had to advance to plan B of simply pulling up to the terminal due to the fact that standing in the pouring rain was not the image I was going for. I fantasized I was pulling into pit row as I eased the car to a stop in front of Prince Charming and he piled in. A large smile broke across his tired face and he said, “It looks like you have some plans for me this evening”.
I said,“ indeed I do”. Then it hit me... Prince Charming was wearing his sweat suit. Rats, this is a complication I was hoping wouldn’t occur. Roberto (being pretty quick when he needs to be) said, “I can change when we get there, I’ll just pull my clothes out of my suitcase.” What do you know, we seemed to be in agreement on making this date thing work out.

So it was settled and I eased my way back onto the freeway and headed back to our side of town. The rain was beating on the windshield, the wind was whipping around and it was quite the white knuckle drive. I started thinking, maybe we had better postpone this date. No, it’s always something. We agreed on a place quickly before we could talk ourselves out of it. I pulled into the parking lot that was packed with cars and flooded with water. “Looks like a big wait”, I said (meaning this is your last chance to back out). Prince Charming insisted we at least go in for a drink. I made my way through the lot but it was seriously flooding. Prince Charming said, “ pull in this spot and climb over to the passenger seat. I’ll run around and drive up to the door for you.” So I hoisted myself into the other seat in a very unladylike fashion and was chauffeured to the restaurant door. I said, “ don’t bother changing, you’ll just get drenched swimming in from the parking lot”.

I swung my nylon encased legs out out of the car and plopped directly into a big puddle.The water promptly soaked my feet, heels and all. Despite my soaking feet I did my best to sashay on up to the door and into the bar to wait for a table. I was a little surprised to feel some of the male eyes being laid on me, I guess guys like that windswept look? Oh yeah, I forgot I had on my come and get me dress. A few minutes later, my date appeared quite wet in his sweat suit and running shoes. And you know what, I didn’t care (although I do spend a fair amount of time criticizing his choice of clothing he wears in public). I just smiled and patted the barstool next to me.

I ordered up a big fat Cosmo and proceeded to have our long awaited date. It was a superb Cosmo, with the leftovers that wouldn’t fit into the martini glass poured into a cute little cylinder so I could refill my own coctail. We talked and we sipped and ended up ordering a dinner to split right there at the bar. We sat there wondering if all of these people who were packed into this place were like us, trying to forget the dire circumstances Detroit and Michigan are in, even if it’s only for a few hours.

We got home at a reasonably late hour for a couple of old coots, one totally tarted up and the other basically in his pajamas that are often a 24 hour a day multipurpose uniform. Goes to prove, once again, there is more than one way to let the good times roll.

Comments

[The Lawyer Mom]

That is a GREAT post. Romance still lives!

[Princess numero uno]

Awwww....sweetness.

[The Mother]

Romance becomes relative sometime around the tenth year of marriage (or the first kid, whichever comes first.

We take what we can get. Even if no one else would consider it "romantic."

[ByJane]

I. Must. Have. This. Immediately!

[Mercedes]

This is a really beautiful story!