It had been a wonderful evening and as I slowly pulled my screen door open I knew the night was about to get even better. Fumbling a bit with my keys, I finally found the correct key and nervously slid it into the front door lock. I had to jiggle the key a bit to get it to work in the ancient lock, but it finally unlocked so I pushed the door open, stepped back and held the screen door to let Erica step into my house.
"It's not the Ritz, but it's comfortable," I said as she stepped into the dark entry. I quickly stepped in behind her and turned on the light. She slowly wandered toward the living room as I closed and locked the door, still somewhat stunned that she agreed to come home with me.
"Just toss a couple of those pillows aside and sit down, I'll get us something to drink. I've got beer, wine, some vodka, tequila and a touch of Johnny Walker Red β’."
"Some white wine will be fine," she answered, moving a few pillows and sitting down on the couch.
Opening the refrigerator I pulled out a bottle of wine, set it on the counter and went hunting through several drawers for the corkscrew. I was glad she selected white wine, I had an excellent Chablis and I wanted to show off a bit. Had she asked for red I would have been stuck with some dismal choices, not a Thunderbird, but not a whole lot better.
Finally finding the corkscrew, I unwrapped the bottle top and began coring into the cork as my mind drifted to earlier in the evening.
Although Erica and I had only met once, we, after only a short period of uncomfortable silence while driving to the restaurant, seemed to immediately gel. I was surprised to learn that in her high school and college years she was considered a bit of a geek, a title I understood well. We immediately began talking about books and seemed to share a similar interest in literature both reading from a wide variety of subjects.
We got so engrossed in our conversation that we made the waiter come back three times before we were ready to order. It takes a lot to draw my attention from a menu, but as I looked at the tight curls in her long dark hair, the long eyelashes and beautiful brown eyes, I was engrossed. As we talked I could only gaze at her, noticing how her nose seemed to turn up a bit at the tip and then I lost myself in her lips, feeling nearly hypnotized as she spoke.
Her blouse was low cut and showed just the right amount of enticing cleavage. Not wanting to get caught staring at her breasts, I stole quick glances as we talked, loving the way the candlelight flickered over her skin. It was almost a let down when the food finally arrived.
While we daintily ate our broiled trout dinner, occasionally dabbing a napkin to our lips to spit out a bone I told her, "You know, I am truly surprised that you were considered a geek, I mean you are very intelligent, but you are also so beautiful... it's just that, well, the girls I knew in the geekdom all seemed to fit a similar profile. You certainly don't fit the physical profile."
"Contacts," she replied.
"Contacts?"
"Sure, you've read Dorothy Parker?"
I nodded.
"Well, it's quite simple, in high school and college I wore glasses, and well you know the poem, "Men don't make passes..."