The best night of my life!

What is it about beautiful women that turns men into big idiots? And why do I always tell a story this way with a useless, throw-away statement up front and then a back-fill of info to the present?

I met a girl back in February that I was completely smitten with. I had, prior to that, seen her a couple of times (October 22nd would be the first time) and never could get up the nerve to talk to her even though I wanted to very badly. (But I would have talked to her very badly…) Well it just so happens that we ended up attending the same function back in February and I was finally able to summon enough courage to talk to her.

I should have been suave and dashing. I can be that guy, sometimes.

However, I was confronted with the most beautiful girl I have ever spoken to, 2 big, brown eyes, a constant smile, and a voice that just made me wilt. So about all I could manage was to stammer out was “hobbitta hobbitta hobbitta…” and just nod my head a lot. Being the angel that she is, she pretended she wasn’t talking to a retarded child and gave me her business card and said we could email each other. “Hobbitta hobbitta hobbitta…” I replied with equal amounts of charm and wit.

Well, we have been sending email back and forth almost every (work) day since. I can be freaking eloquent in email, mind you! I have even managed to spend some time alone with her and managed to get out a sentence or two. This beautiful angel is from a completely different culture. She has only lived in this country for 7 years or so. Her English is great (she’s a translator for her company) so that’s not an issue. Plus I am (slowly and inexorably) learning her native language, but she’ll be dead long before I will be skilled enough to attempt a real conversation using it… In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I have a huge crush on this young lady and I would love to date her! But I am hampered by not only my fear of rejection but the fear of freaking her out enough that she “must desperately escape the crazy American”. So I have been a model of restraint.

So anyway, this past Sunday I was able to spend the whole day with her. We did some sightseeing around the state and just had a blast together. That evening I dropped her off at her crib. We stood there for a few minutes. I kept coming up with random shit to say to postpone the actual moment of having to say goodbye and reenter my drab and lonely life. But for the first time she also seemed to be doing the same thing! This went on for a couple of minutes, too.

Well, by this time, my brain knew what I was going to do (although it kept me out of the loop!) and had signaled my heart to go into a state not unlike arrhythmia, and also to push double quantities of blood into my brain thereby making a very loud swooshing sound at irregular intervals that pretty much prevented me from hearing anything she was saying. The brain also decided, at that particular moment, to completely seize my lungs. This had the bonus effect of de-oxygenating my blood - which means that what my heart was forcing into my brain at high pressure was pretty much a viscuous, useless goo. I felt like I was suffering from nitrogen narcosis!

So my brain is yelling (over the din in my head) “kiss her, you bastard” because it thinks that her brain is saying “why don’t you kiss me, you bastard!” However, somewhere in my system was a pocket of resistance sending out a warning that what her brain was really saying was “I hope that bastard doesn’t try and kiss me!”

In the meantime, appendages tingling and unable to breathe and with my skull beginning to pop sutures from the pressure, my eyes focused just enough to see this beautiful face bathed in the glow of mercury vapor lamps with these eyes looking at me with what, at the time, I reasoned to be a glimmer of curious hope - but in hindsight was probably just curiosity brought on by streams of putrid, high-pressure goo shooting out of my ears. Anyway, that was all it took.

A curious calm descended upon me as the brain first dispatched a “search and destroy” team to eradicate the resistance, and then it shut down enough nerves in my body to make me fall forward. To avoid crushing her, I managed to will enough strength into my left arm to gently reach out for her arm and impede my forward motion. That allowed me to impart enough energy to the side to swing my body wide and to the right. The grip that I had on her arm gave me enough of a pivot point to circle around and slam my face into her left cheek.

Upon arrival there, I became aware of several things. First, she smells really great. I don’t know if it is perfume or just her skin, but it makes me want to sleep in her closet! Second, what tactile nerves I had available in my left hand that my current stroke-like disorder had not damaged were making note of the feel of her skin. I don’t have anything in my lexicon to describe it, it was just that nice! But the fact that she didn’t seem to be recoiling in horror was a very large bonus to me. Of course, the fact that I probably had a death-grip on her arm may have kept her in check…

But all good things must come to an end. I just planted a nice little smooch on her cheek and then began the arduous journey back to earth. I won’t explain the mechanics involved with the return, but as my hand slid forlornly down her arm and through her hand, she bent her fingers just enough to check my progress for a brief second and I could feel just a little hint of a squeeze. Also, I think that she sent some type of electrical current as well, because 2 days later I can still feel her fingertips holding my fingertips.

I'm sure that by now you are completely disappointed. "Why didn't you kiss her?" you might ask... "Why didn't you knock her down and get busy?" the less restrained individuals are probably wondering...

The long and short is that I really do like this girl. I have hopefully discarded any of the emotional baggage that I have been carrying around for the last few years. I really want things to work out between us. I really hope that she’s not a freak once I get to know her. Hmmm… I wonder why there aren’t any more guys trying to date her? Maybe she is a freak? I hope to find out eventually.

But that’s the story of the best night of my life.