So we rescheduled the third date. A couple-three days later, I took her to tea at the fancy hotel and then to completely max out the fun meter I took her to watch me referee a high school basketball game.
Actually, the hotel is more than fancy, it’s one of the nicest hotels on the planet, five stars and five stars aren’t passed out with the rations. My Angel still wasn’t a hundred percent, but she was close enough and we both wanted to see each other. My games and the hotel were close to each other, and she had the afternoon off and even if this wasn’t the most traditional third date in the history of dating, it was ours and the logistics worked out rather nicely.
I have some expensive tastes. I enjoy the five-star experience. It’s the best our planet has to offer and I enjoy enjoying it: the service, the atmosphere, the food, the drink, everything the very best.
I have some zero clue where I got this from. Well, yes I do, a wealthy older woman was my entrée to luxury hotels and restaurants. I certainly wasn’t to the manor born. I had an average middle-class upbringing and growing up it was always other people who did those things. I was always curious, though, and when an older woman with expensive tastes wanted me to join her, I was an eager accomplice though, boy, I sure humped like a bunny for it.
I suspected Angel would do well here and I knew she would like it. As an older stalker, er, gentleman, I have an eye for things like this. She was simply the prettiest girl on this planet. Her hair was curled, but sort of curled behind her ears, which made her look both older and younger at the same time, and her white dress was perfect. There was no one I’d would have rather been there with. She had told me it was her first time here to actually do something as opposed to just doing some sightseeing with her mom, but she acted with complete aplomb, as is she’d been taking tea here regularly her entire life. She was the perfect younger woman.
I was honest and told her I enjoyed this hotel and had been here lots of times and generally not by myself, which would’ve been obvious anyway when everyone from the valet to the hostess greeted me by name.
———
I told Angel beforehand if she didn’t like going to my games she was under no obligation to do so, but she should probably go to at least one to see what I did. She was funny and interrupted me to say she was happy to go because this meant it was now out of the way, which made me laugh.
Fortunately, I was working with Elvis and his wife Julie was there, sitting in her usual place in the third or fourth row closest to the exit. I introduced them. Elvis and Julie are a few years older than me and if they were surprised at me showing up with a date young enough to be my daughter they did a rock-solid job of keeping it to themselves. I’d been working with Elvis for years, and Julie’s been then there for most every game and they’d met several of my girlfriends, though Julie would later note privately this was the first one I appeared to have recently picked up at daycare.
What was funny was that Angel admitted she knew squat about sports and hadn’t been to any kind of game since she went to them in high school to meet boys. Julie laughed when she heard this. She has been going to Elvis’ games for 30 years and she was very gracious and pretty soon they were both ignoring us and chatting like old friends.
The game was routine. I made a point to make eye contact and wave when we took the floor, but otherwise, the game had my complete and undivided attention because that is the only way I can be at my best.
All right, this was not the most romantic plan, tea, and a high school basketball game, but I had a busy week and was booked for the next few nights and she had the afternoon off and my game was nearby, so if this wasn’t straight out of the Dating Handbook sue me. We liked each other and were on the way to loving each other, so even a date tipping cows over would have been new and fun.
We had most of the afternoon at the hotel. After tea, we wandered around the gardens and she did not object to me taking her hand, nor did she flee when I kissed her at a fountain.
Our first kiss.
Oh, baby, that was nice. The best first kiss ever. Hands down, no contest. Her lips were soft and receptive and if I had suggested we get a room she would’ve said yes. But nothing is less conducive to physical activity than sex, at least at my age. I come and that’s it, I’m done for the night and I had to ref later.
It was no coincidence we walked by the entrance to their 5- star restaurant, The Chancellors Room. I said we should go next week and spend the night here. Angel actually started to weep a little! She said she had always wanted to dine here and of course, she would join me.
Tuesday is not your traditional fine dining night, but I had games next Friday and Saturday and she had Wednesday off so Tuesday it was.
Chapter 3: Angel
Chapter 4: Angel
The Angel and The Captain Homepage