there are surprising things with Lourdes though. For one thing she ordered her steak bloody—that’s just disgusting. She also makes a big point of closing her eyes and tipping her head down before she starts eating, and I’ve already dug in when I realize she’s praying. I awkwardly drop my fork and pretend to join her. I mean I knew she was religious but she must be really religious to do that in a restaurant. We get an impatient stare from the waitress since she has to wait until we’re done to grind the Parmesan cheese over my side of spaghetti.
At the end of the evening I drive Lourdes home and walk her to the door, where she thanks me and kisses me on the cheek. She doesn’t even invite me in. It’s not like I really wanted to go in, but I’ve always gotten some kind of offer from other women. I don’t even know what to make of that. I feel like I’ve entered an altered universe where at the end of the evening you get dry, precursory kisses on the cheek instead of wild-monkey sex.
The whole drive home I try to make sense of it. She’s certainly the most proper and nice girl I’ve ever gone out with. She’s smart and pretty. But hell, I didn’t think about screwing her once all night. I’m not sure how that will work.
Maybe I’m mixed up in the head. This is probably a good issue to bring up with Jim and the guys in my group meeting Tuesday.
Lourdes and my second date is just as surreal because we go to see a movie and after several failed attempts where she pulls away from me, she finally lets me hold her hand. I feel like I’m back in junior high.
When she calls me a couple of days later to invite me to dinner at her place I’m surprised. I’m not exactly excited about seeing her but decide there’s no harm in one more attempt to see if there’s anything between us. Dating is such a novel concept in my life. It’s sure a lot of work but it seems to pay off for plenty of people. I figure I shouldn’t give up so easy.
Saturday I take a shower and shave before changing into clean clothes, then stop at the florist and buy a bouquet of flowers.
Lourdes answers the door wearing a black dress that has lace running up her neck and down her arms. Through the lace covering her wrist I spot not just the cross tattoo peeking out, but an identical one on her other wrist. She looks particularly pale tonight, with porcelain skin and soft red lips. Her hair is pulled up and I realize that everything’s just more ramped up than our last dates. After taking the flowers with a smile, she pulls me inside.
I squint as I enter her living room. The walls are dark red and there are candles lit everywhere. There’s even some heavy-duty classical music playing. It certainly isn’t what I would have expected from Lourdes. I have a fleeting thought that maybe she’s a witch and she’s going to cast a spell on me. I half expect bats to start flying out of the fireplace.
She goes to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase and I realize that the brightly colored bouquet I got couldn’t have been more wrong. A bunch of dead red roses would have fit in this room better. Am I in a Tim Burton movie?
I step farther inside to study the paintings all hung in fancy gilded frames.
Every single one is with a crucifix painting or Madonna and child.
What the hell? I lean into the doorway to the kitchen and wonder if I can make a break for it but she sees me.
She returns to my side with two tiny looking wine glasses.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Absinthe.”
I sniff it. “Is this some weird booze or wine?”
“Sort of.” She gives me a demure look and takes a tiny sip.
I take a larger sip and almost spit it out. Damn! My throat is on fire.
“Too strong?” she asks.
I nod my head while I try to stop coughing. Meanwhile she keeps taking small sips and the fumes don’t seem to bother her at all. For a tiny thing she’s pretty tough.
The weirdness continues through dinner where she serves up some
At the end of the evening I drive Lourdes home and walk her to the door, where she thanks me and kisses me on the cheek. She doesn’t even invite me in. It’s not like I really wanted to go in, but I’ve always gotten some kind of offer from other women. I don’t even know what to make of that. I feel like I’ve entered an altered universe where at the end of the evening you get dry, precursory kisses on the cheek instead of wild-monkey sex.
The whole drive home I try to make sense of it. She’s certainly the most proper and nice girl I’ve ever gone out with. She’s smart and pretty. But hell, I didn’t think about screwing her once all night. I’m not sure how that will work.
Maybe I’m mixed up in the head. This is probably a good issue to bring up with Jim and the guys in my group meeting Tuesday.
Lourdes and my second date is just as surreal because we go to see a movie and after several failed attempts where she pulls away from me, she finally lets me hold her hand. I feel like I’m back in junior high.
When she calls me a couple of days later to invite me to dinner at her place I’m surprised. I’m not exactly excited about seeing her but decide there’s no harm in one more attempt to see if there’s anything between us. Dating is such a novel concept in my life. It’s sure a lot of work but it seems to pay off for plenty of people. I figure I shouldn’t give up so easy.
Saturday I take a shower and shave before changing into clean clothes, then stop at the florist and buy a bouquet of flowers.
Lourdes answers the door wearing a black dress that has lace running up her neck and down her arms. Through the lace covering her wrist I spot not just the cross tattoo peeking out, but an identical one on her other wrist. She looks particularly pale tonight, with porcelain skin and soft red lips. Her hair is pulled up and I realize that everything’s just more ramped up than our last dates. After taking the flowers with a smile, she pulls me inside.
I squint as I enter her living room. The walls are dark red and there are candles lit everywhere. There’s even some heavy-duty classical music playing. It certainly isn’t what I would have expected from Lourdes. I have a fleeting thought that maybe she’s a witch and she’s going to cast a spell on me. I half expect bats to start flying out of the fireplace.
She goes to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase and I realize that the brightly colored bouquet I got couldn’t have been more wrong. A bunch of dead red roses would have fit in this room better. Am I in a Tim Burton movie?
I step farther inside to study the paintings all hung in fancy gilded frames.
Every single one is with a crucifix painting or Madonna and child.
What the hell? I lean into the doorway to the kitchen and wonder if I can make a break for it but she sees me.
She returns to my side with two tiny looking wine glasses.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Absinthe.”
I sniff it. “Is this some weird booze or wine?”
“Sort of.” She gives me a demure look and takes a tiny sip.
I take a larger sip and almost spit it out. Damn! My throat is on fire.
“Too strong?” she asks.
I nod my head while I try to stop coughing. Meanwhile she keeps taking small sips and the fumes don’t seem to bother her at all. For a tiny thing she’s pretty tough.
The weirdness continues through dinner where she serves up some
Similar Books
