the d-a-i-y-t-e

it was an interesting doorbell, brass, faux-gold embroidery in the usual frilly quadrilateral - an elongated diamond i guess - framing a little white button, grayed with use. probably has a cute little chime to go with it too, greensleeves, or a carol of some sort. four bars of pachabel. beethoven's ninth. or maybe even william tell. that would be ambitious. the English are coming! open your door!

i looked out to the street from the porch, from the steps, finger poised to leave my personal bit of grayness to the button. the coast was clear. the fewer witnesses the better. i looked at the doorbell again. this was supposed to be the easy part.

the flowers were a bit leaky, plastic not as waterproof as advertised, tinfoil perforated. i scanned the vicinity for something with hand drying potential. the brick wall was none too inviting so i opted for a pant leg. it was just water anyway. back to the doorbell.

i gave it a ring, briefly, and what i assumed to be beseechingly. the doorbell tolled as if i had hammered the button with a sheep, bleating its A flat, resonating through the interior. socked footfalls followed and the door clicked, easing open to reveal a stately gentleman of general middle age. he peered at me from behind his glasses with the scrutiny of a teacher, eying suspiciously the apple that was placed on her desk.

"are these for me? you shouldn't have."
"uh, they're for your daughter. sorry." i thought i saw him pout.
"hey, dad, thanks for telling me that my date is here!"

i looked up, and there she was, standing at the top of the stairs. my, what a big dopey grin you have, i berated myself. she took her time coming down the stairs, carefully, gracefully, toes lighting upon each step daintily. falling on your face in front of your date would have been demoralizing. oh yeah, i should probably close my mouth now.

her father helped her into a light denim jacket. one quick kiss and a promise to be back by 11 later, we breezed down the porch steps to the car. i raced to open the door for her only to find it conveniently locked. sheepishly i swung it open and she slid into the seat. hustling to the other side, i clambered into the opposite seat.

"so."
"i saw you investigating our doorbell. do you like it?"
"oh, heh, yeah. great doorbell. i like it very much."
"you're making me jealous."
"how wonderfully cheesy. i hope you're going to do that all night. hey! rules about playful violence: hit only non tender areas. and i get to fight back."
"i like the flowers."
"i bought them myself."
"so where're we going?"
"i thought we could catch an early dinner then hit the park."
"mmmm okay."

---

"i've never had sandwiches for a date before," she said between mouthfuls.
"i've never had a date before."
"you're doing all right for a beginner."
"ouch."
"don't screw it up."
"yes, ma'am."
"i'm not a ma'am!"
"yes. miss-ter?"

we were walking through the park, sandwiches in hand, since neither of us were keen on using utensils. the sun waned in the west and the clouds were splashed in vivid girly colours. the hill we came upon had a prime view of the setting sun and was surprisingly uncluttered with couples. we took to the western slope and settled down for the night to fall.

"so you finally got up the courage to ask me out."
"i hope the wait wasn't too long."
"only a few months."
"how many?"
"three, i think?"
"so you've liked me for three months?"
"no, i waited three months for you to ask me out."
"why didn't you ask then?"
"the guy should make the move. that's your cue to casually put your arm around me."
"how helpful."
"what about, 'i'm cold'?"
"but that would mean getting up from this very comfortable position to take off my jacket."
"well you should have brought a spare jacket for this very situation."
"how about i just pull you closer?"
"that works too."

---

"that was a good sandwich."
"yeah? mine was a little bit dry."
"i had a wonderful evening."
"would you like another?"
"yes, please."
"shall i call?"
"that's your job."
"what's your job then?"
"to look pretty."
"i like your job."
"i'm very good at it, aren't i?"
"yeah, you doll up nice."
"so will you be giving me a goodnight kiss?"
"for someone who thinks that the guy should make all the moves you're rather forward."
"well, i'm not too keen on waiting three months for one."
"i'm out of practice."
"excuses, excuses."