The First Date

Otherwise known as... The Coach...

Today was a very long day... indeed.  After a night of poor sleep-- dreaming of a forearm with a smeared,  cursive tattoo of a word I can't recall, and being so very glad to wake up and realize it was just a dream-- I went to my first class at Stetson in three weeks.  We had had a reprieve for Spring Break and Easter.

It was lovely not to get up and leave the house early on two consecutive Saturdays.

Today, however, the loveliness was over.  Class was interesting and engaging, as always, but the day was so very long.

I had a first date planned after class.

I had butterflies in my stomach (I love butterflies, they let me know I'm alive!), and felt unsure about my outfit-- jeans and a cute coral blouse, paired with a blue cardigan, all day.  After all, my friend Jack had told me that cardigans aren't sexy.  Bare arms with just a wee bit of flab are even less sexy.... in my opinion.

On a first date, I'll take the cardigan.  :-)

I hadn't planned on writing about the date, but the following occurred and I just couldn't resist:

After getting our respective beverages from the local Starbucks in Celebration (herbal tea for me-- after 2:30 if I drink anything with caffeine I can't sleep to save my life-- and a white chocolate hotness for Coach), we found a quiet bench overlooking the lake for people-watching and the inevitable getting-to-know-you conversation.  The Coach teaches at a high school in the Even-Smaller-County West of My County.  He has smiling blue eyes and a lone dimple on his left cheek, and loves coaching basketball.

The conversation flowed easily, and then he dropped a bomb on me... I did a little research this afternoon.  

Please God, noooooooooooo.....

Long story short... The Coach, in combination with his brilliant information-seeking and the Information Age, found my blog.  Pinterest betrayed me.

I buried my head in my hands.  It's hard enough going on a first date without worrying that the potential boyfriend-to-be might discover the hilarious, self-deprecating, written record of my adventures in singlehood.  Well, despite that discovery, he showed up for the date.  Not only did he show up, he was a gentleman-- The Coach opened doors, bought my tea, and walked me to my car at the end of the evening.

Okay, you have to know... it's rated G, and anything PRIVATE stays out.  It's just me enjoying the writing, and telling stories of my adventures.  I make an effort to keep it positive-- that's important to me.

It's okay, Jen.

I have a good feeling, but time will tell.  In the meantime, mum's the word.  :-)

Author's Note:  The author is pleased to report that while this was the only date with the Coach, she is most happily coupled.  For the present, that is all she is willing to share.  :-)