It was a warm and busy weekend night, and I was too buzzed to take offense to Dick’s late arrival. Alcohol numbed my judgment and my integrity like a Novocain shot to the gums before a dental procedure. I felt nothing but a warm floaty numbness that I equated to wonderful. As long as the waiter kept bringing the Sake, I was in a fine mood.
Over dinner we talked and giggled and shared Sake. The more I drank the more I decided Dick wasn’t entirely unattractive. I gave him several points for being a so-so conversationalist. His ability to do that alone was enough – at the time – to keep me interested. He was clearly educated and not short on stories or experiences. And I was genuinely interested in his cycling adventures.
Of course, Dick didn’t know I was already super buzzed when he arrived and couldn’t have guessed that I’d polished off two bottles of wine before I even left for the restaurant. I didn’t look, sound, or act drunk because my tolerance for alcohol was already high. I guessed that as the sake began to flirt with his brain, I began to look more gregarious and interesting to him too. I noticed that he became visibly more comfortable the more he drank, which aroused my curiosity – did he drink before our date too? It turns out he had. Something else I noticed as the evening wore on, he found himself really funny. He laughed at every other thing he said. Now, that was funny.
I’ve always been fairly perceptive when it comes to picking up cues from other people. It was clear to me that Dick felt at ease and didn’t seem to be in any rush to end our dinner. We spent maybe an hour and a half together before the meal and the sake were gone. After we said our good-byes, the impression he had made on me lingered for about as long as it took me to drive to the nearest liquor store; approximately three minutes.
Out of sight, out of mind.
My memoir, Saturation, can be found on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Saturation-Memoir-Jennifer-Place/dp/1461018129