Thursday, December 8, 2011

Take Me Out

What was your best date ever? I mean a knock your socks off, will never ever forget it kind of a date. The one you weigh all other dates against.
I was a starry-eyed, daydreaming, naive 17 year old girl who had been transported to the mystical world of Maui, Hawaii. He was a 30 year old NYC transplanted surfer with a buff body, dark tan, and Italian looks that sent chills through my spine. We met by chance at our hotel and after a week of flirtations, including a photo together flashing the "Hang Ten" sign, we finally figured out a way to sneak off together. (Yes, my parents approved. Or well, my mom did. Dad wasn't so sure. In hindsight, he was right to be wary.)
He picked me up on his Harley and we cruised down a coastal road more beautiful than any I had ever seen before. Lush volcanic mountains looming overhead to our left, waves crashing against black rocks to our right. I clung to him with all my might; scared to death but literally living a daydream. We finally pulled into a deserted beach and he helped me navigate the boulders out to a perfectly flat rock perched out into the ocean. The Pacific lapped just below our feet as we chatted and laughed. I don't remember a thing we discussed, but I remember that kiss. Oh, what a kiss! To actually feel wanted and desired by a man of his caliber, when the high school boys back home wanted nothing to do with me, was the best feeling in the entire world. He held me in close, arms around me, as we made out before the Hawaiian sunset.
Not to forget the whole pressing me up against a palm tree for one last kiss before we got back on the motorcycle to leave. That was pretty good too.
It was my first "real" date. I was a junior in high school. And no offense to any man since then, but I started off my dating life right. In fact, no other date has ever come close. How could it? The sparkle in my eye at that age was magnetic and I grasped to every lingering thought of him for as long as I could. Yes, pathetic as it is, I kept that photo of us together in the steering wheel of my car for at least a year. We never spoke again after he dropped me off at the hotel that night. That's probably for the best. Knowing what came of him and his life would probably ruin the fantasty I've clung to for these past 13 years.
But then came Facebook.
After a random dream that included his name, I did a quick search and up he popped. I can't see any of his information or any of his photos (except the one above) but when I did see that pic, I had to smile. Even though you can't make out much of him in that photo, it's pretty perfect. Still tan. Still in Hawaii. Still surfing. And still a perfect reminder of that once-in-a-lifetime experience I had all those years ago. Life may be much better now, but that doesn't mean I should throw away my past. Not when a moment was that good. And that sexy. ::insert grin::

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