Charming, but single

The first date with the Nurse went well. He was running late, but he called and warned me in advance, which was the polite thing to do.

The first minutes were awkward. Ordering coffee and getting situated always is. The first thing he did was bump the table and spill coffee everywhere – except for on me, fortunately.

The conversation flowed well. He tells a good story and is easy to talk to. We hit on both of our jobs. He told me about nursing school (to clarify, I knew that he was in nursing school and not already a nurse). He works in a critical care unit and finishes in December. (The down side being that he lives with his mother, but he was quick to point out that this was an arrangement made only so he could focus on his studies, that he'd lived on his own for many years when he decided to change course and go to nursing school and that he was moving as soon as he graduated. So, I am giving him the benefit of the doubt because I appreciate that he has a plan and is obviously working toward something. If he were working at a bar and mooching off of his parents, I'd feel differently.)

We had a few cups of coffee and moved to an outside table. He again suggested a walk, but we were in a very populated area near a strip mall and so the only walking would be past a nail salon and a few restaurants. (As an aside, men should realize that we pick public places for first dates for a reason.) But, knowing that he'd a big fan of walks, I may suggest a short hike at a nearby swamp/wildlife area, which would be a fun way to do some walking and some talking, I think.

He was explaining how he used to brew his own beer when a woman at a nearby table interrupted us. We would talk and she would chime in, as if she were completely oblivious to the fact that we were obviously on a date.

He was chiding me about my age, seeing as he is almost five years older than I am. The woman chimed in. 

"Honey, you have nuthin to worry about," she said. "I'muh almost to da big FOUR-OH and people still think I'muh yung."

She then proceeded to tell us how she was 37 and she had a boyfriend who was 27 and how people didn't believe she wasn't in her mid-20s herself. This woman was wearing black stretch pants, a striped long sleeve T-shirt and brown sandals with her hair messily tossed into a ponytail. She looked like she'd spent far too many hours in the sun, had a thick country accent and looked like she was well over 40.

She was either delusional or drunk. Possibly both.

As she left, the Nurse leaned over and said in his best hick accent, "She's hot stuff, Miss I'm Not 40. She's got herself a 27 year old and everything!" 

We devolved into laughter and the casual touching started. A hand on my knee or my shoulder. All good date signs.

We parted after almost three hours of coffee. (I thought I was going to turn into a café au lait.) He walked me to my car and we hugged. (He also hugged me when he got there, but we're from the South and we do that, so it wasn't odd.)

And then, in the middle of a busy parking lot in a strip mall in the plain day of the afternoon at the end of our coffee date, he leaned in for a kiss.

I could see him close his eyes, a clear kiss signal. I gave him a quick peck. He clearly wanted more, as he'd rested a hand on my hip and was pulling on my blouse.

I pulled back and smiled, thanked him for the nice date and said we should hang out again. He was leaving town for a few days, but promised to call when he returned.

I smiled as he walked away and climbed in the car, wondering if I am a prude for not wanting to play tonsil hockey in front of an office supply store and a family of four eating beignets on a lazy afternoon.