Today's Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

New Year's Eve Dilemma

By Judith L.

New Year's Eve was only a week away, and I didn't have

even the prospect of a date for that important beginning to

the New Year. Was the rest of the year going to be like

this? Sitting in front of the television with my mother

and younger brother watching other people enjoy themselves?

Six months ago, I had moved from the lush southeast

coast to this desolate part of west Texas, in order to live

with my mom while I recuperated from a serious motorcycle

accident. Now that I was able to work again, I planned to

hightail it back to God's country as soon as I was able to

save enough money.

In the meantime, here I was, a twenty-one-year-old

with a possible New Year's Eve at home looming in front of

me. " Don't just sit there, " an inner voice prompted me.

" Do something. " Usually, the thought of a blind date would

have made me shudder, but I was determined not to spend the

night in front of the TV.

I picked up the phone and called Penny, someone I'd

met here who seemed to know a lot of people in town. Penny

said she'd give the matter some thought and get back to me

if anyone came to mind.

Two days later, she called back. A former coworker,

who didn't know she was recently engaged, had asked her out

for New Year's Eve. When she explained that she was no

longer available, he asked if she had a friend to whom she

could introduce him. " He's divorced with custody of his

two kids, pretty clean-cut, and doesn't do drugs, " she told

me. Nervously, I accepted - then spent the next week

regretting my impulsiveness. Several times, I almost

picked up the phone to cancel.

But I made it through the week, and, finally, the

night arrived. Now I couldn't decide how to dress. Would

he expect casual or a dress and heels? About thirty

minutes before he was due to arrive, I called Penny in a

panic. What should I wear? Penny said she didn't think he

was the " formal type. " What did that mean, not the formal

type? Now I was really confused. I finally settled on

what I considered to be a happy medium, slacks and a

sweater.

The doorbell rang. Should I answer the door myself,

or ask my younger brother Jerry to get it? I sighed as I

walked to the door, mentally composing various excuses that

would allow me to exit the evening gracefully should it

prove disastrous. Fixing a smile on my face, I opened the

door.

I stopped short and stared as I took in the Stetson

hat, western shirt, long blue-jeans-clad legs, and pointed-

toe boots. A cowboy! My date was a cowboy! Then my gaze

swept back up to his face, and I found myself looking into

the greenest eyes I had ever seen, eyes full of laughter at

the expression on my face.

I stuttered " hello " and politely held out my hand.

Jerry struggled to contain his laughter, while I struggled

to regain my composure. We chatted briefly, and suddenly I

didn't care where we went or what we did.

Over dinner, we never seemed to run out of things to

talk about. And I found my eyes kept coming back to those

green eyes and that smiling mouth. After dinner, he took

me to an action movie. I forgot to warn him how actively I

participate in action adventures. He laughed as I

screamed, hid my eyes and cowered in my seat, and lifted my

feet off the floor when insects or rodents appeared on the

screen. I think the really big adventure for him was

watching me react to the show.

When the movie was over, he said he had to get home.

I wondered if this was a brush-off. I also wondered if he

would kiss me god-night on this first date. He had been

such a perfect gentleman the entire evening, he'd probably

just shake my hand, and maybe I'd never see him again. I

realized how much I wanted that good-night kiss. Would he

think I was too forward if I kissed him first? Would it

drive him away, or bring him back? Once again, I was in an

agony of indecision!

When we arrived at my house, he walked me to the door,

came in for a moment, then turned to leave. 'What the

heck?' I thought to myself. 'Go for broke.' I followed

him out to his car and asked for that good-night kiss. He

obliged, and, lightheaded, I floated back to the house,

hoping I would hear from him again.

I did. The next morning, early, he called. He liked

me, too! Fifty-six days later, we became husband and wife.

That was twenty-one years ago, and even after all these

years together, his kisses still make me lightheaded.

Never underestimate the power of a blind date.