Trying too hard

“What? He said, glancing over at her.
“Our waitress. I think she likes you.”
“What makes you say that?” He asked, looking in her direction. She, of course, was no longer looking at him, making me look crazy.
“Well, I don’t have a lot of experience in that area, but she was sending off some pretty strong vibes. And,” I continued, nodding in her direction, “she keeps looking at you.”
He glanced at her briefly and then back at me. “Why don’t you have a lot of experience in that area?” He asked, catching me off guard. The waitress was pretty cute, I expected him to continue on about her.
I shrugged. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend. I’m not sure I’ve even really been on an actual date.”
“Really?” He said, looking surprised. “Why not?”
“Well.” I said, pausing as the waitress set my drink in front of me. “This might make me sound totally full of myself, but nobody’s really caught my interest. I mean not in high school at least. When I was at school there were a few group dates, I guess. Guys I liked. But then I came back here and it was back to the same group, so.”
“And what does it take to catch your interest?” He asked, leaning back and smiling. Tingles ran up my arms.
I laughed nervously. “I don’t think it’s particularly hard. It’s just I’ve been here my whole life and I know everyone and none of us seem to click in that way. I don’t really get the chance to meet new people much, and my work schedule is crazy so even if I did, I’m not sure a guy would want to deal with that.”
“So you’ve never had a boyfriend… Does that mean you’re a virgin?” He asked. Then, I saw him blush. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, that’s really personal, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”
I laughed again, this time for real. “I have that problem too. No, I’m not. Though I’m not highly experienced in that area either.” I said, smirking.

The waitress came back with our food, setting down an extra plate of fried pickles.
“There was extra in the kitchen. I thought you guys might want it, or else we just have to throw it out. I know I love a good pickle.” She said, looking suggestively at John.

I couldn’t help myself, a giggle escaped my throat. The waitress shot me a dirty look.
“Uh, thanks.” John said, and the waitress smiled at him and walked away.
“See?” I said. “She wants your pickle.”
Now it was his turn to laugh, and I watched as that one dimple I loved so much popped up on his face.
“She’s cute.” I added.
“Lots of girls are cute. She’s trying way too hard.”
“I thought guys liked that, means less work for them.”
He snorted. “I see you think highly of us men.”
I shrugged, taking a pickle and biting into it. “I told you, I don’t have much experience with men. I base all of what I know on TV and romantic comedies.”
“Oh.” He moaned, dramatically throwing his head into his hands. “We’re doomed!” Then he popped back up and smiled at me, swiping one of my sour kraut balls. “What’s your favorite romantic comedy then?”
“Hmm…” I thought for a moment. “I don’t know if it’s necessarily considered a comedy, but my favorite is Pretty Woman. Though, I also think that it’s everything that’s wrong with how women view relationships.”
“Elaborate.” He said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Well. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but it’s a woman in a desperate, bad situation. She happens to meet a rich, charming man, who tells her he isn’t going to fall in love with her. However, by the end of the movie, after he’s done all these elaborately romantic things, he of course does fall in love with her. I mean, obviously women don’t think a man is going to come and shower her with money to buy clothes and take her in his personal plane to the opera, but I do think a lot of woman expect that with enough time, they can change a man and make him fall in love with her, and they do often expect an unrealistic level of romance.”
“And you don’t believe that?” He asked, eyeing me evenly.
“Mmm. No. Not really. I mean falling in love does take time, but I don’t think anyone can change anyone else. The person has to want to change. And I think if I met a man and he told me he wasn’t interested in a relationship, I wouldn’t then expect that with enough time, I could wear him down. Nor would I really want to. To be honest, romantic comedies are fun to watch, but I don’t really believe in romance.”
“How can you say you don’t believe in it when you haven’t had it?”

I suddenly was embarrassed, being so open and monopolizing the conversation so much. I opened my mouth and then closed it quickly, unsure of how to proceed.

“C’mon now, don’t back down now.” He said, prodding me with another one of his easy smiles.
“I don’t know. I mean I guess I can’t say I don’t believe in it, but I guess I don’t believe… I don’t know how to word it really. I think…” I was stumbling now, but decided to forge ahead. “I think the nice thing about romance is that it’s supposed to be unexpected. A surprise. Doing something nice for the person you love to show that you appreciate them or thinking about them. But now-a-days, in our culture, it’s not a surprise at all. We schedule holidays for it, it’s expected on anniversaries, and it’s also become such a contest. God, I’m going to sound so cheesy saying this, but I think I’d rather take something as simple as my boyfriend slipping a love note into my pocket on a random Wednesday then him planning a hot air balloon ride at sunrise with champagne on our anniversary. I’d just want to know it was done because he wanted to do it, not because he felt like he had too. I’d want to know the action was really thought about and not some cliché. But again, I don’t really have a lot of experience, so maybe I’m way off base.”

He watched me for a minute, and I felt myself holding my breath, nervous to hear what he was going to say.
“You surprise me, Lanie.” Was what he finally said.
“In a good way, or a bad way?” I asked, and then I wish I hadn’t – I didn’t really want to know if it was bad.
“Good. I wouldn’t still be here if it was bad.” He said, smiling.

From there on out, our conversation was both easier and lighter. John told me about his hometown in Utah, about his mother and sister. I spoke a little about my family life, but not too much. My Uncle was such a big part of that, and it was hard to talk about. I was so used to people automatically knowing my story, that I had no idea when to tell a person (friend or boyfriend) about it. I suppose he didn’t HAVE to know, but it was such an odd idea to think about someone not knowing that about me. But, I did know that tonight wasn’t the right time, and so I tried to deflect any family questions back on to him.

“Another drink?” He asked as I took the last sip of mine.
I shook my head. “I have to drive home, and work early tomorrow. I should get going.”
He nodded and signaled to the waitress, who bounced over like an over eager puppy.
“Here you go.” She said, guessing what he needed and handed him the check.
“I’ll take it.” I said reaching for it.
The waitress looked panicked and John looked amused, but waved me off.
“I’ve got it, Mel.” He answered, and the waitress looked oddly relieved and walked away.
“At least let me pay for my half. Or leave the tip.” I protested.
He ignored me and reached for his wallet. He opened the booklet, glanced at the check, and I watched as a look of annoyance crossed his face and clouded his eyes.
“What?” I asked, watching him roll his eyes. “Did they mess up the check?”
“No. It’s nothing.” He said, placing money in and shutting it. “Ready? I’ll walk you to your car.”

We stood and he placed his hand on my lower back, lightly guiding me out of the restaurant. I had to fight the urge not to shiver as chills ran up my back – there’d be no way to explain them on a night as warm as this one.

“Thanks for coming out with me tonight. It was nice getting to know you better.” He said as we stood outside my car.
“Thanks for asking me. It was fun. Are you going to tell me what that eye roll in there was all about?”
He laughed. “Not going to let that go, huh?”
“I’m not really one to let things go.” I answered.
“Good to know.” He exhaled and ran his hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in the front. I wanted to run my hands through it, but kept them glued to my side. “She just left her number on the check.”
“Aww. C’mon now, that’s kind of cute. You should go and get it, call her sometime.”
“No. I’m good. It’s pretty ballsy and borderline rude to be that aggressive when she didn’t know if you and I were together or what. It’s a turn off for me when people try that hard.”
“Good to know.” I said, using his words from earlier.
“Anyway,” he said, stepping forward to wrap me in a hug. “I’ll see you Friday?”
“Yeah.” I said, his smell making me dizzy. “Friday.”