Monday, November 28, 2005

Date Three and Thoughts on the Previous Post ...

G had two specific comments about his blog entry: 1) He thinks he comes off sounding like a player; 2) He thinks I paint all men as relationship-phobic.

Clarification No. 1: He is not a player. Far, far from it. He is incredibly kind and tender, funny and sweet.

Today, as I mentioned, was Date Three. Dinner. But more than that. For instance, I asked him to help me think of a birthday gift for my cousin who's about to turn 60, and he took me to a storefront in Chinatown that is better described as an art gallery. Art glass, pottery, Chinese artifacts, really beautiful things.

Clarification No. 2: I don't think all men are relationship-phobic. I agreed with him that that is a broad generalization. I do think many men are relationship-phobic, but I do not think he is one of them.

Later, at his place, I watched in amazement as he made dinner. Get this: He made the balsamic dressing for the salad. Not that balsamic dressing is the world's biggest challenge, but how many people - nevermind just guys - make their own salad dressing? But there it was, whisked up and ready to go when I walked into the kitchen. He, meanwhile, was busy whisking the beginnings of a three-cheese pasta sauce on the stove. Allow me to point out that he wasn't using the salad-dressing whisk. No, he owns two whisks. (Maybe more; I didn't look in his drawers.) When he wasn't whisking, he was grating the parmesan and the gruyere for the sauce. (I was in charge of salad at this point, then opening the wine.) Then he added the pasta to the boiling water, got a bowl out of the cabinet, and proceeded to fill it with hot water.

I almost swooned. I'm dating a man who knows to heat the pasta bowl?

"You're like a character in a movie," I said. It was almost too much: Tall, really cute guy, busy whisking together dinner in his high-rise condo with the great westerly view? "It's like winning the lottery."

He, for his part, was beaming, proud that he was able to so impress me.

Dinner was terrific, it really was. Dessert was simple but fab: Vanilla ice cream topped with a hot raspberry sauce with a splash of Kirsch. Wow.

And even later: Would I like an after-dinner port?, he asked. Why, of course I would. Let the record show that he is the only man I've ever dated who offered me a port after dinner.

I am still shaking my head.

Briefly tonight, I found myself wondering what must be his flaws, but I chased that thought out of my mind. I'm sure he has them. I'm sure I'll find out about them soon enough.

Right now, I'm just going to focus on Date Four.

Tuesday.

6 Comments:

Blogger Jeff Hunter said...

I didn't look in his drawers.
There's always date #4...

9:27 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'd request copies of his last AIDS test. He sounds "hinky." Heating the pasta bowl? Way to Martha Stewarty for a real man.

2:38 PM  
Blogger Beth said...

Anonymous Person:
Based on all your comments today, I have to wonder: If I annoy you so much, why do you keep reading?
And, based on this comment, I suppose you think all male chefs are gay?

2:56 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your blog is like an accident, I know I shouldn't look, but I can't help myslef.

I never accused anyone of being gay, just not a real man.

4:31 PM  
Blogger Beth said...

"... not a real man."
And yet, I'm dating him, and not dating you.

10:45 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

you sure he's not gay or a very practiced serial killer? Sounds way too good to be true

3:35 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home