Several days before my vividly memorable night I was working at a desk in the community college where I was both a full-time student and part-time employee. Well into my sophomore year in my mid-twenties, I was familiar with the staff and had even gotten to know several of the vendors who only stopped by monthly or less often. So when Linder stopped by and chatted briefly I thought little of it; we had talked fleetingly numerous times before.
But within an hour he walked up to my desk, almost abruptly handed me a three-by-three inch piece of note paper, then turned around and left, pausing only long enough at the door to say that he would return in about ten minutes. On the note paper, in large, neat, masculine print, was an invitation to see "b-ball" that Saturday evening.
I remember staring at that paper for what had to be several minutes, not knowing what to make of it. For one thing, what in the world was "b-ball"? My mind immediately thought "baseball," but that seemed insane in mid-winter in the northeastern section of snow-covered USA. Basketball seemed to me equally silly - to my knowledge, my little college didn't even have a team! More than any other puzzle is that Linder had never asked me to anything before, so why after a year and a half of acquaintance had he suddenly invited me somewhere, and was this indeed a "date," or what?
For the previous two years I had been living with my boyfriend, who also attended that college. Not surprising therefore that I would have received no invitations then. A month after my boyfriend and I had split a friend gave me a makeover that, though not entirely of my liking, gave me a new look that was fun to experiment with: new hair color, different makeup used in new ways, new styles of clothing, etc. With some consideration it was clear that both my new availability and new look caused Linder to approach me.
Then there was Linder himself. His age was "significantly older" than I was - not "old" but apparently between five and fifteen years my senior. He seemed to me to be handsome, lean and strong, tall, well-dressed, gentlemanly at all times, and well-spoken; he was certainly someone worth a second look, whatever his age, but not once prior to that moment I had ever considered him beyond a sporadic work relationship. I knew he had been divorced or something a year or two beforehand and was short on money. Of course, even with my part-time job I was living mostly curtesy of student loans. Few people I knew then had spare money for anything anyway.
When he returned for my answer he clarified that "b-ball" meant basketball at a nearby, much larger college. While basketball has never been my interest, I accepted because something in the way he looked at me when he handed me the invitation and later when he asked for my reply seemed to indicate that the evening would be an adventure rather than simply a couple of hours at a spectator sport.
A few days before our date he drove me home from college in the afternoon, back to my little one-bedroom apartment. In this way and through gentle conversational inquiries he learned about my interests, background, and style. I had little to offer for food and drinks, but we were content to simply visit. For background music we listened to a recording of a wide variety of eras and genres. At one point "Take On Me" by A-ha came on and I started to dance. Some songs do that to me - I just have to dance unless prevented from doing so! He danced with me, both of us unashamedly being more goofy than proficient, including countless styles of moves, but never touching each other. It was purely lots of fun to have someone to dance with, someone to share the joy of an upbeat song. Not long afterwards "I Melt With You" by Modern English came on. Again I danced, but he didn't because he said he didn't know how to do so to that particular beat. To me, if the music moves me I truly don't care about "how" to dance - the point is simply to move in time with the music. We played that song a couple of times more until he could feel comfortable dancing to it, before allowing the recorded music to go on to other eras and styles. When he left soon afterwards we were both smiling, laughing, relaxed yet energized.
In that short visit of less than an hour I had learned to trust him, I could talk about myself without judgement, he could reveal himself to me without fear. Like me, he had been rusty from not having danced for a long time, but he was willing to risk embarrassment to try to dance with me. We discovered how to move around each other, to anticipate and respond to each other's bodies. Dance provides an opportunity to really look at someone's body, face and whole body movement, in a fun, casual, honest way. Mostly, I had learned that I really liked Linder, that being with him was fun, and I began to wonder quite often about what would happen Saturday evening.
Our rendezvous Saturday was just after sunset on the common "green" of the nearby college. It was still light, barely, so he walked me around to show me a bit of the campus before darkness took hold. I don't recall any of that tour because I had dressed for a date rather than for a long winter walk, and the temperature outside was cold - around freezing and dropping quickly. My jacket was totally insufficient and my dress slacks did little to keep me warm. By design or by sudden flashes of compassion, a few times during the tour Linder wrapped his arms and much warmer coat around me. It was during one of those warmth-sharing, shivering embraces that he first kissed me. I had looked up (he was much taller than I was), perhaps to thank him for the warmth of his coat, and during a pause he leaned down and kissed me. It was both completely predictable - straight out of a "How To Seduce A Co-ed" manual, if one exists - and yet absolutely surprising! The short, hesitant kiss was followed by a respectful pause during which he sincerely asked me aloud if I was okay with the kiss. He actually later even asked if it was an okay kiss! Plainly, he was a bit rusty with dating and not just with dancing. In answer, I kissed him back, longer, but not much longer because the cold began to consume me again.
Those two kisses had felt far more wonderful than I had expected. His were soft, pliant lips that were somehow firm in their intention. My memory is so clear about that embrace, and how his kiss awakened me somehow. I didn't feel like he had "gotten to first base" and was expecting to try next for second, or that I was lessened in his view. I have had a lot of first kisses, and for many it's like the partner (male or female) has "taken" something from me, or just as often as if "I" were not there but instead were playing the role of "she who gets kissed." In retrospect I see that everything that followed that evening has its base mostly in those two kisses, in the trust that they created, in the unveiling of my reserves, and therefore in the desire that began to arise within me.
We next walked to the basketball game, something that was either free or extremely low cost so I felt no concerns about his paying my way. I remember sitting in the bleachers but I have no clue who played whom or who won. What interested me was that Linder was sincerely interested in the game, absorbed in it yet, somehow, fully still together with me, answering my questions, including me through closeness in his enjoyment of the game. For the first time ever I, too, enjoyed a game of basketball. He didn't use that public environment to push any boundaries or to behave inappropriately in any way, and yet I felt like his embrace from outdoors continued in the way he would innocently reach over to place his hand on my shoulder before describing some action on the court or protectively move my arm when someone walked by.
During the game it was more than evident to me that Linder was a nice guy, a considerate man, not at all weak but moreover kind by choice and by nature. There is probably no aphrodisiac more potent than strength used gently, than power used for trust, than availability used as invitation rather than obligation. He never once pushed his interest but instead allowed me to respond to him. The best part of the game was gradually deducing that he had asked me on the date to be there with him for my pleasant company more than simply as his decoration or to create a "debt" to be paid by my expected submission later. He didn't insinuate any ulterior motives but instead was open and prepared for whatever choice I made.
Consequently, I was practically jumping with enthusiasm to be with him! It was so very easy to smile with him! He hadn't tried to "buy" me with an expensive dinner and evening (those can be great, but should, in my opinion, be later in dating), didn't try to push me in any direction. How refreshing to be able to relax my guard. So often on dates in my teens and young twenties I had to inconspicuously protect myself from advances and/or boredom. With Linder I didn't need to do that. When he offered to continue the date by going to his apartment for drinks and a light supper, I readily agreed.
Safety is vital to romantic success for me, especially then as a single college student living alone thousands of miles from my family's home. A roller coaster ride is thrilling only because we know that, appearances aside, we won't get into a collision nor be dropped from any great height. Linder made me feel safe by asking me if I wanted to drive my car and follow him to his apartment, this way I could never be stranded. It may seem odd that I keep repeating this theme, but the night I describe happened exactly the way I'm writing it - it did happen - and only now do I see why this night was so special. Because of all that he and I had discussed, done - and not done - till then, sexually I was ready, oh so ready, for him before I even reached his apartment.
