MY FIRST DATE

Of course I was nervous.  After all it was my first date.  Was she nervous?  I have no idea; she didn't seem to be.  Perhaps boys are naturally more nervous than girls on their first date.  I think perhaps mothers rehearse their daughters over and over again beforehand - they seem so relaxed, at least Andrea did at the restaurant on that fateful June night.  Everything was going along splendidly until  . . . my tie caught fire.  Naturally I never saw Andrea again.

The next weekend, my composure restored,  I asked Belinda out.  Of course it was a different restaurant this time.  Things were progressing nicely, my previous experience now only a dim memory, until . . . I began to itch uncontrollably all over.  Well, that was it for Belinda.

Another weekend, another date.  "Never give up", my dad admonished me.   It was Connie's turn, and restaurant number three.  Things couldn't be going better if I had rehearsed all day.  Until . . . without warning, and for no apparent reason, my nose began to bleed into my tomato soup.  As I expected I wouldn't be seeing Connie again.

If I had nothing else going for me at least I had fortitude.  This time it was Donna.  Thankfully Donna didn't know Andrea, Belinda or Connie.  I thought, "What could possibly go wrong".  I was soon to find out.  We wern't half way into our meal when I had an uncontrllable urge to yawn.  I don't know why - I wasn't tired, and I certainly wasn't bored.  I opened my mouth to yawn, being careful not to have any food in there - wider, wider, wider.  Then 'snap'.  Oh my God!  It wouldn't close.  Donna was more embarrassed than I was.  She left post haste.

So on down the list - next was Eleanor.  Eleanor was the least good looking of the bunch, so I figured she would tolerate anything.  I figured wrong.   We were exchanging pleasantries when I began to feel a tickling in my inner ear - the left one.  I stuck my little finger in to relieve the itch and, wouldn't you know it, I couldn't get it out.  Putting my hat over the misbehaving hand didn't do much to hide the situation.  That was not on Eleanor's list of scceptable behaviors.

 I was down to the F's.  I picked Francine - a good all around sport.   When we got to the restaurant, I had a look around and noticed the small candles burning brightly on each table.  This one is going to be expensive, I thought.  But what the heck, "nothing ventured, nothing gained", I kept repeating to myself.  The waiter was just bringing our dessert when I fortuitously leaned over to whisper something, I don't remember what it was now, to Francine.  Then 'poof' - my hair caught fire.  I was in shock.  Not knowing exactly the right protocol I just sat back down and began to beat my head with my linen napkin.  Francine jumped up and as she turned to leave anointed my head from the remainder of her water glass.  I sat there dumbfounded, smoke spiriling up from my acrid smelling hair, smiling benignly at the other patrons as they turned in their chairs to see what all the fuss was all about.  When the head waiter approached to ask what the problem was, I lied, "sorry, this is my first date and I'm just a little nervous".