Menu Dating

Today is the third anniversary of my last first date. Otherwise knows as my first date with my now husband, Jason. Not to sound too much like a Hallmark card, but it’s resulting in some particularly butterfly’ish feelings this morning. Maybe because we are also approaching our first anniversary as a married couple. I don’t know. But I do know that there is something spectacular about your last first date. You have no idea when you either ask for it or agree to it that it will be your last first date. When you are getting all dolled up for it, you don’t know that this is the last time you’ll pick out a first date outfit. If the jitters strike, you don’t think to yourself, these are my last first date jitters. During the usual “interview” exchange of questions, there’s no signal that goes off alerting you that you’ll never play that game again. And unless you are that magical couple that comes along once in a blue moon when you engage in that first kiss, you probably don’t know that that lip-lock will be the last pair of lips your ever lock with. At least not yet.

In interviews I am often asked about my first date with Jason. Typically I think people are expecting an extravagant tale – one worthy of an Academy script. But our story is really a simple one:

Boy sees girls in her office while visiting agent. Boy likes what he sees. Boy saunters into girl’s office, uninvited. Girl is annoyed but is polite. Boy obtains girls phone number from his agent and asks out girl. Girl goes out with boy.

Ok, wait, let me rewind. There’s a little bit more to tell.

Truth be told, I didn’t want to go out with Jason. The cards were stacked against him. My first impression of him was that sure, he was hot but hot guys in LA are just a casting away. When we met, Jason was overly confident, borderline pompous I’d say. He got my number from his agent, which has bad cable movie, titled “That’s so LA” written all over it. He asked me out via a really long text message, which is a huge pet peeve of mine (note to men: if your thoughts extend into multiple messages, have some courage and pick up the phone), and as I mentioned in a previous post, he was a recently divorced pro-athlete which equated in my mind to BIG baggage meets no brains.

Plus my mandidate plate was pretty full with some flavorful options already... translation = not looking.

If it wasn’t for my “Always take applications” mantra (and a little nudge from my baby brother, Zach, who was a fan of Jason’s professionally), his ask-me-out text would have gone unanswered.

Alas, the date still almost didn’t happen despite its arrangement. The night of our date, I was at a birthday party - one I didn’t want to leave. Friends galore were present, the bar was open and flowing, and there were cute new prospects there (I know, I said I wasn't looking, but come on... I was a menu dater and menu daters are always looking!). Three reasons to stay, and not really one I wanted to leave for. The drunken birthday party girl, Sarah, however was quick to remind me that I was writing a book on the benefits of keeping your man options open and of always saying yes to knocking opportunities… plus she reminded me that I am a woman of my word and always treat people the way that I want to be treated. It can be such a bitch having people put the mirror in your face sometimes! Further, she said she had a cosmic feeling about “this one” and essentially kicked me out of her party to go meet the hot, dumb jock! So off I went to the very cliche hotel bar, half-smiling thinking to myself, it’s just one drink... just one drink.

Low and behold, mid-drink I was awe-struck and humbled by the treasure box I had unlocked in the hot, dumb jock… truly enraptured by his depth, softened by his sincerity and charmed by his quick-witted humor.

One drink turned into three turned into a first kiss under the moonlight turned into enchanting conversation through sunrise turned into a second date that night and then a third and more and more and more for four continuous months, which turned into us impulsively jetting off to Switzerland together to live among castles in a forest for five months which turned into an engagement. Just like that.

See that’s the funny thing about like and love. You really can stumble into it anywhere, anytime, when you least expect…IF you are open to it. Sometimes you need a little nudge along the way (thanks Sarah and Zach) to get you off your lazy ass, and sometimes you have to loosen the screws on your view to remind you that the outside wrapping isn’t always representative of the gift inside, but the most important thing is showing up for the game. As we discuss a lot on this blog, there is always something to be gained from getting up to bat – every experience lifts you up – even if it's just a millimeter, growth is growth and results in making you a better you and ultimately a better partner.

So here's to getting out of your own way, and up to bat to as many first dates as it takes to get to the last one.

Live and love largely,

Tristan

p.s. Jason, if you are reading this today, thank you for the best last first date of my life and all the other last firsts, first lasts and first firsts that you’ve given me. Our ride together has been serendipitous and extraordinary and as I look out into the future with you, I’m so excited for all that it will be. I love you.