Where I Leave You

Abby: First Day

Five minutes late.  I parked my car backward waiting for him.  My car faced the little coffee shop that we both found.  It had a clear shot of the entrance.  It looked like the forgotten part of Riverside County.  There was a line of random stores next to this shop.  A Spanish mechanic shop, and a post office.  Six minutes late.  This guy wasn't making a great impression already.  I sighed as I went on what felt like the one-hundredth online date that I knew would go nowhere fast.   I don't know why I even stayed this long. 

I hoped he looked like his picture because otherwise, I didn't want to waste my time.  I listened to Heart & Soul Sirius station to calm me down as I waited what was now ten minutes for this person that I had a brief conversation with online.  This guy I didn't do my whole spiel about wanting to get to know him more before we met.  As soon as he wanted to meet me, I wanted to go.  So here I was now waiting just past ten minutes for this guy.

Just as eleven minutes passed, a white jeep flew through the parking lot, swerved into a spot, with acute precision I might add, and out this man went.   The truck blocked me from seeing him, for just a moment, and then there he was.  A man who looked like he was in his mid-thirties, balding, he wore a brown corduroy jacket, which made me chuckle.  I hadn't seen that since the '90s.  With the patches on the elbow and everything.  It felt like I was dating one of my professors.  Which I guess was fine, since I was an adjunct professor myself, but that was neither here nor there.  He also had on a yellow shirt and black jeans.  I could tell he was trying to make a good impression. 

I saw him whirl around in the coffee shop, trying to find me.  Well here goes nothing.  I stepped out of my little black car and headed to the shop.  He texted me to say that he was here.  I responded by saying I was walking up.

I probably was an interesting sight.  Not that I was bragging or anything, but I had this big hair don't care moment like I was Tina Turner, wearing skinny jeans and heels with a black shirt, (and yes, I was just coming from work.  I like to look good when I'm at work).  I was just a little taller than he was in heels, I'd say about a quarter of an inch.  Interesting.

"Hi," he said, extending his hand.  He had nice kind eyes.  A light brown color.  I could get used to those eyes.

"Malik, right?" I asked feeling a little unsure of him still. 

"Yeah.  Sorry, I'm late Abigail." At least he acknowledged it, and it's not like the whole world waited on bated breath for his presence.   

"Just Abby is fine."  He opened the door for me and I  strolled into the shop.  That was nice of him.  We both looked up at the poor excuse of a menu for a coffee place that moonlighted into a sandwich shop?  I ordered some version of jasmine tea and he ordered matte.  I was sort of impressed by that, one that this place had it on the menu and two not many people picked an Argentinian tea. 

I had my hand on my purse ready in case I was supposed to pay for my three-dollar tea.  I never assume anything on dates anymore.  I've sort of been through it all.  He, of course, didn't flinch and paid for our drinks.

"Would you like to drink outside?"  It was a nice day in May, and again, the shop wasn't much to look at on the inside. 

"Sure."    I felt like I was cool towards him.  I think I doubted being on a date with a man that was ten years my senior.  I knew I looked extremely young for my age, but I wasn't the average 25 years old. 

When we approached the chairs outside, he set his drink down and pulled my chair out.  I muttered a 'thank you', half surprised by the action and in awe that it just seemed natural for him. 

We sat for a minute cooling down our tea, and fixing it up just the way we like it. 

"So you liked that I like Edgar Allen Poe and listen to jazz?" I said breaking the ice.