How I Met Your Father
Part 2: The First Date
Part 2: The First Date
On the morning of our first date, I was a little out of sorts. I was SO excited to go our with Dave, but also SO nervous.
If I remember right, Dave had only asked me to go on this date two or three days prior. Translation: There was no time to get my hair colored. No time to find a new bathing suit. No time to lose weight (yes, I was a Cabbage Patch doll--LOL!). And in my mind, no time to really become the person I hoped Dave would fall in love with (because, if you remember Part 1, I really do think I loved Dave from the minute I saw him. Really.)
So, here it is the morning of our first date, and Dave's told me we are going to drive through Malibu Canyon, go to the beach, and have lunch. It sounded like such a perfect first date, minus the beach part. (I was seriously dreading the whole take-off-the-beach-coverup-and-hit-the-waves part-of-the-date.)
In my efforts to be completely prepared, I got ready at about 5am for the 10am date. I think it took me about 22 minutes to get completely dressed.
So at 5:30am, I went to the local Sav-On Drugstore and bought some things to take on the date: a beach chair (I didn't own one), granola bars (because I didn't want to take junk food and have him think I was Gilbert Grape's mom), grapes, peanuts (blech), water bottles, sunscreen and a book (to look deep).
By the time I returned home (to the Huck's), it was 6:00am.
What I did for that extra four hours is anybody's guess, but alas, 10am came. I heard Dave Jeep pull in the driveway and within a minute the doorbell rang.
I don't remember what Dave wore that morning, but I remember being just as excited to see him then as I had been the night of Jeff's bday party (Which was a relief. Ever thought you liked someone until you saw them in daylight? LOL!). (Note to the kids: Your dad was probably wearing black shorts and a Videos to Go shirt--red or white. Because he and Uncle Pat owned the video store, that was pretty much all he wore. I think he had about 50 of those shirts, and they may have even been dry-cleaned.)
So after a few awkward hellos at the door (It was really one of the first time we'd talked face-to-face without Christine's pizza owning brother!), Dave walked me to his car. . .
and seated in the passenger seat was someone else . . .
his 80-pound Golden Retriever, Barney.
I loved that he brought his dog. I loved that he had a dog, period. I loved that it was this kind loving breed, too. (What if he'd had a German Shepard? A purse dog? Your dog says a lot about you, no?)
Okay, so yes, I loved that the dog was going with us. But I don't think the dog liked it. Clearly, he was used to sitting in the passenger seat, and it took some coaxing to get him to move to the backseat.
But after a few short minutes, we were on our way: Dave, me, and Barney.
The drive through the canyon was beautiful; it was a sunny summer day. But I really don't remember a thing we talked about during the drive. You see, Dave's car was a Jeep with a hard top--which mean't you could drive with the top off. Translation = windy. Translation = MESSY hair AND hard to hear. (I had a lot to think about. Not to mention, Barney decided to lean on my shoulder for the durati0n of the drive. Translation = drool.)
Once at the beach, we picked a spot and set up our chairs/towels. I think it took Dave about two minutes to ask if I wanted to go swimming. I thought that was funny (then and now). Who swims at the beach? I go in the water, but I don't really call it swimming.
Well, Dave swims at the beach. Think, triathalon swimming--like, parallel-to-the-horizon-swimming. The thought of taking my beach coverup off (which I'm sure was a turtleneck) stressed me to no end. So, I told him I'd rather not swim. (I'm ashamed to say that now. So much fun, I was.)
Funny, I kind of expected him to stay out of the water once I said no-thanks. But, not your dad, he headed straight for the water and swam a good 20 minutes.
There's so much more that took place on that first date, but I really should be more brief.
Here are the highs and lows:
* Highs = Lots of sun. Lots of smiling. Good times throwing the frisbee or ball to Barney. No traffic on the drive home. Lunch at McDonald's.
* Lows = Dave being in the water when the police on beach cruisers informed me that I had my dog at a "no dogs allowed" beach. That was a low. Even more of a low when I explained to the officer that this was our first date, it wasn't my dog, the owner was swimming, etc. To which the officer said, "well, you better get in that water and get your friend to take his dog to another beach."
Take off my cover-up and get in the water? Who was that officer kidding?
